Charlotte  M.  Yonge, 


BOSTON  COLLEGE' LIBRARY 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 


TO 

E.  B.  H. 


THIS  LITTLE  BOOK 
IS  MOST  LOVINGLY  DEDICATED. 


EDITED  BY 

CHARLOTTE  M.  YONGE. 


33593 


PREFACE. 


This  little  book  is  a translation  from  a col- 
lection of  devotional  thoughts  published  in 
France  under  the  title  of  “Paillettes  d’Or.” 
It  is  necessarily  a selection,  since  the  gold  dust 
which  suits  French  readers  requires  a fresh 
sifting  for  the  English;  but  the  value  of  most 
of  the  thoughts  seems  to  me  well  to  deserve 
the  term  of  gold.  There  are  many  who  will 
much  enjoy  having  this  little  collection  on  their 
table,  so  as  to  be  able  to  take  up  and  dwell 
upon  some  one  of  its  grains  at  leisure  times 
throughout  the  day’s  business. 

C.  M.  YONGE. 

Feb.  1 2th,  1880. 


5 


INTRODUCTION. 


In  the  South  of  France,  during  the  summer, 
little  children  and  old  and  infirm  poor,  who 
are  incapable  of  hard  work,  in  order  to  earn 
a livelihood,  employ  themselves  in  searching 
the  beds  of  dried-up  rivers  for  “Paillettes 
d’Or,”  or  golden  dust,  which  sparkles  in  the 
sun,  and  which  the  water  carries  away  as  it 
flows.  What  is  done  by  these  poor  people  and 
little  children  for  the  gold  dust  God  has  sown 
in  those  obscure  rivers  we  would  do  with 
those  counsels  and  teachings  which  God  has 
sown  almost  everywhere,  which  sparkle,  en- 
lighten, and  inspire  for  a moment,  then  disap- 
pear, leaving  but  regret  that  the  thought  did 
not  occur  to  collect  and  treasure  them. 

Who  is  there  that  has  not  experienced  at 
some  time  in  his  life  those  teachings  so  soft 
and  gentle,  yet  so  forcible,  which  make  the 
heart  thrill,  and  reveal  to  it  suddenly  a world 
of  peace,  joy,  and  devotion? 

It  may  have  been  but  a word  read  in  a book, 
or  a sentence  overheard  in  conversation,  which 
7 


8 


INTRODUCTION- 


may  have  had  for  us  a twofold  meaning,  and, 
in  passing,  left  us  touched  with  an  unknown 
power. 

It  was  the  smile  on  the  lips  of  a beloved  one 
whom  we  knew  to  be  sorrowful,  that  spoke  to 
us  of  the  sweet  joy  of  resignation. 

It  was  the  open  look  of  an  innocent  child 
that  revealed  to  us  all  the  beauty  of  frankness 
and  simplicity. 

Oh ! if  we  had  but  treasured  all  the  rays  of 
light  that  cross  our  path,  and  sparkle  but  for 
a moment ; oh ! if  we  had  but  engraved  them 
on  our  hearts ! what  a guide  and  comfort  they 
would  have  been  to  us  in  the  days  of  discour- 
agement and  sorrow;  what  counsels  to  guide 
our  actions,  what  consolations  to  soothe  the 
broken  heart! 

How  many  new  means  of  doing  good ! 

It  is  this  simple  work  of  gathering  a little 
from  every  source — from  nature,  from  books, 
above  all  from  mankind  itself — that  is  the 
intention  of  one  of  your  fellow-creatures,  dear 
souls,  you  who  long  so  to  make  your  lives  more 
holy  and  devout! 

And  in  the  same  way  as  the  gold  dust,  gath- 
ered and  accumulated  from  the  river’s  bed,  was 
the  means  of  bringing  a little  profit  to  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


9 


hearth,  so  would  we  endeavor  to  carry  a little 
joy  to  your  hearts  and  peace  to  your  souls. 

Gather  then  these  little  counsels:  gather 
them  with  watchfulness:  let  them  for  a mo- 
ment penetrate  deep  into  your  heart;  then 
scatter  them  abroad  again,  that  they  may  go 
with  their  good  words  to  the  help  of  others. 

They  will  not  be  importunate,  will  not  even 
ask  to  be  preserved;  they  do  not  desire  fame; 
all  that  they  seek  is  to  convey  a transient 
blessing. 


GOLD  DUST 


I. 

“My  Lord!”  exclaimed  once  a devout  soul, 
“give  me  every  day  a little  work  to  occupy 
my  mind;  a little  suffering  to  sanctify  my 
spirit;  a little  good  to  do  to  comfort  my 
heart.* 1 

II. 

If  by  our  deeds  we  become  saints,  true  it  is 
that  by  our  deeds  also  we  shall  be  condemned. 

Yes,  it  is  little  by  little  that  we  press  onward, 
either  toward  salvation  or  eternal  ruin;  and 
when  at  last  we  reach  the  gate  of  glory,  or 
that  of  perdition,  the  cry  escapes  our  lips, 
“Already!” 

The  first  backward  step  is  almost  impercept- 
ible ; it  was  those  tiny  flakes  of  snow,  seeming 
to  melt  as  they  touch  the  earth,  but  falling  one 
upon  another,  that  have  formed  that  immense 
mass  which  seems  ready  to  fall  and  crush  us. 

Ah!  if  I tried  to  trace  back,  to  what  first  led 
to  that  act  of  sin ; the  thought  that  produced 


12 


GOLD  DUST. 


the  desire ; the  circumstance  that  gave  rise  to 
the  thought,  I should  find  something  almost 
imperceptible;  perhaps  a word  with  a double 
entendre  I had  heard,  and  at  which  I had 
smiled,  a useless  explanation,  sought  out  of 
mere  curiosity;  a hasty  look,  cast  I knew  not 
wherefore,  and  which  conscience  prompted 
me  to  check;  a prayer  neglected,  because  it 
wearied  me;  work  left  undone,  while  I in- 
dulged in  some  day-dream,  that  flitted  before 
my  fancy.  . . . 

A week  later,  the  same  things  occur,  but 
this  time  more  prolonged;  the  stifled  voice  of 
conscience  is  hushed. 

Yet  another  week.  . . . Alas!  let  us  stop 
there;  each  can  complete  the  sad  story  for 
himself,  and  it  is  easy  to  draw  the  practical 
conclusion. 

III. 

A young  girl,  in  one  of  those  moments  when 
the  heart  seems  to  overflow  with  devotion, 
wrote  thus  in  her  journal: — “If  I dared,  I 
would  ask  God  why  I am  placed  in  the  world ; 
what  have  I to  do?  I know  not;  my  days  are 
idly  spent,  and  I do  not  even  regret  them. 

. . . If  I might  but  do  some  good  to  myself, 
or  another,  if  only  for  the  short  space  of  a 
minute  in  each  day!”  A few  days  later,  when 


GOLD  DUST. 


13 


in  a calmer  mood  she  re-read  these  lines,  she 
added,  “Why,  nothing  is  easier!  I have  but 
to  give  a cup  of  cold  water  to  one  of  Christ’s 
little  ones.” 

Yes,  even  so  small  a gift  as  that,  but  given 
in  God’s  Name,  may  be  of  service,  and  gives 
you  the  right  to  hope  for  a reward  in  heaven. 
Even  less  than  that:  a word  of  advice;  some- 
thing lent  to  another ; a little  vexation  patiently 
borne;  a prayer  for  a friend,  offered  to  God; 
the  fault  or  thoughtlessness  of  another  repaired 
without  his  knowledge;  God  will  recompense 
it  all  a thousand-fold! 

IV. 

Alms  given  in  secret;  that  is  the  charity 
which  brings  a blessing.  What  sweet  enjoy- 
ment, to  be  able  to  shed  a little  happiness 
around  us! 

What  an  easy  and  agreeable  task  is  that  of 
trying  to  render  others  happy. 

Father!  if  I try  to  please  and  imitate  Thee 
thus,  wilt  Thou  indeed  bless  me?  Thanks! 
thanks!  be  unto  Thee. 

V. 

Is  it  fair,  always  to  forget  all  the  good,  or 
kindness  shown  to  us,  by  those  with  whom  we 
live,  for  the  sake  of  one  little  pain  they  may 


14 


GOLD  DUST. 


have  caused  us,  and  which,  most  likely,  was 
quite  unintentional  on  their  part? 

VI. 

When  you  sometimes  find  in  books,  advice  or 
example,  that  you  think  may  be  of  service, 
you  take  care  to  copy,  and  consult  it  as  an 
oracle.  Do  as  much  for  the  good  of  your  soul. 
Engrave  in  your  memory,  and  even  write 
down,  the  counsels  and  precepts  that  you  hear, 
or  read  ....  then,  from  time  to  time,  study 
this  little  collection,  which  you  will  not  prize 
the  less  that  you  have  made  it  all  yourself. 

Books  written  by  others  in  time  become 
wearisome  to  us,  but  of  those  we  write  our- 
selves we  never  tire.  And  it  will  be  yours,  this 
collection  of  thoughts  chosen  because  you  like 
them:  counsels  you  have  given  yourself : moral 
receipts  you  have  discovered,  and  of  which, 
perhaps,  you  have  proved  the  efficacy. 

Happy  soul!  that  each  day  reaps  its  harvest. 

VII. 

Do  you  wish  to  live  at  peace  with  all  the  world 
Then  practice  the  maxims  of  an  influential 
man,  who  when  asked,  after  the  Revolution, 
how  he  managed  to  escape  the  executioner’s 
axe,  replied,  “I  made  myself  of  no  reputation, 
and  kept  silence.  ” 


GOLD  DUST. 


15 


Would  you  live  peaceably  with  the  members 
of  your  family,  above  all  with  those  who  ex- 
ercise a certain  control  of  you?  Use  the  means 
employed  by  a pious  woman,  who  had  to  live 
with  one  of  a trying  temper,  and  which  she 
summed  up  in  the  following  words — 

“I  do  everything  to  please  her; 

“I  fulfil  all  my  duties  with  a smiling  face, 
never  revealing  the  trouble  it  causes  me ; 

“I  bear  patiently  everything  that  displeases 
me; 

“I  consult  her  on  many  subjects  of  which, 
perhaps,  I may  be  the  better  judge.” 

Would  you  be  at  peace  with  your  con- 
science? Let  your  Guardian  Angel  find  you  at 
each  moment  of  the  day  doing  one  of  these 
four  things  which  once  formed  the  rule  of  a 
saintly  life: — (i.)  praying;  (n.)  laboring;  (hi.) 
striving  after  holiness;  (iv.)  practicing 
patience. 

Would  you  become  holy?  try  to  add  to  the 
above  actions  the  following  virtues; — method 
— faith — spiritual  combat — perseverance. 

Finally,  if  you  would  live  in  an  atmosphere 
of  benevolence,  make  it  your  study  to  be 
always  rendering  others  service,  and  never 
hesitate  to  ask  the  same  of  them. 

In  offering  help,  you  make  a step  toward 


16 


COLD  DUST. 


gaining  a friend;  in  asking  it,  you  please  by 
this  mark  of  your  confidence.  The  result  of  this 
will  be  a constant  habit  of  mutual  forbearance, 
and  a fear  to  be  disobliging  in  matters  of 
greater  importance. 

VIII. 

When  teaching  or  working  with  others, 
never  laugh  or  make  fun  of  their  awkward- 
ness. If  it  is  caused  by  stupidity,  your  laugh- 
ter is  uncharitable:  if  from  ignorance,  your 
mockery  is,  to  say  the  least,  unjust. 

Teach  the  unskilful  with  gentleness;  show 
him  the  right  way  to  work:  and  God,  Who 
sees  all  your  efforts,  will  smile  on  your 
patience,  and  send  you  help  in  all  your  diffi- 
culties. 

IX. 

When  the  heart  is  heavy,  and  we  suffer  from 
depression  or  disappointment,  how  thankful 
we  should  be  that  we  still  have  work  and 
prayer  left  to  comfort  us.  Occupation  forcibly 
diverts  the  mind ; prayer  sweetly  soothes  the 
soul. 

“Then,”  writes  one  who  had  been  sorely 
tried,  “I  tell  my  griefs  to  God,  as  a child 
tells  its  troubles  to  its  mother;  and  when  I 
have  told  all  I am  comforted,  and  repeat  with 


GOLD  DUST. 


17 


a lightened  heart,  the  prayer  of  S.  Francoise 
de  Chantal  (who  certainly  suffered  more 
than  I),  ‘Thy  will  be  done  for  ever  and  ever,  O 
Lord,  without  if  or  but,  * . . . . and  then  for  fear 
a murmur  may  arise  in  my  heart,  I return 
immediately  to  my  work,  and  become  absorbed 
in  occupation.” 

X. 

He  who  is  never  satisfied  with  anything,  satis- 
fies no  one. 


XI. 

Are  there  many  who  try  to  be  of  some  little 
help  or  comfort  to  the  souls  with  whom  they 
are  brought  in  contact  through  life? 

Poor  souls,  that,  perhaps  have  no  longer 
strength  or  will  to  manifest  the  longing  they 
experience,  and  who  languish  for  want  of  help, 
without  being  aware  that  they  are  perishing. 
O,  mingle  sometimes  with  your  earthly  help 
the  blessed  Name  of  God;  and  if  there  remain 
one  little  spark  of  life  in  the  soul,  that  Name 
will  re-kindle  it,  and  carry  comfort  and  resigna- 
tion ; even  as  air  breathed  into  the  mouth  of 
any  one  apparently  dead,  rushes  into  the  lungs, 
and  revives  the*suffer-er,  if  but  one  breath  of  life 
remains. 

Souls!  Souls!  I yearn  for  souls! — This  is 

2 Gold  Dust 


18 


GOLD  DUST. 


the  cry  of  the  Savior;  and  for  their  sates  He 
died  upon  the  Cross,  and  remains  until  eter- 
nity their  Intercessor. 

Souls!  Souls!  I must  win  Souls! — It  is  the 
cry  of  Satan ; and  to  obtain  them  he  scatters 
gold  to  tempt  them,  multiplies  their  pleasures 
and  vanities,  and  gives  the  praise  that  only  in- 
fatuates. 

Souls!  Souls!  we  long  for  Souls! — Let  this 
be  our  aim,  readers  and  writers  of  these  our 
“ Paillettes and  for  the  sake  of  even  one  soul, 
let  not  fatigue,  expense,  or  the  criticism  of  the 
world  deter  us.  . . . 


XII. 

How  few  there  are  who  would  thus  dare  to 
address  God  each  night: — “Lord,  deal  with  me 
to-morrow  as  I have  this  day  dealt  with  others 
. . . those  to  whom  I was  harsh,  and  from  mal- 
ice or  to  show  my  own  superiority  exposed 
their  failings ; others  to  whom  from  pride  or 
dislike  I refused  to  speak, — one  I have  avoided 
— another  I cannot  like  because  she  displeases 
me — I will  not  forgive — to  whom  I will  not 
show  any  kindness.’ * .... 

And  yet,  let  us  never  forget,  that  sooner  or 
later,  God  will  do  unto  us  even  as  we  have 
done  unto  them 


GOLD  DUST. 


19 


XIII. 

“Grant  me,  O Lord,”  saida  humble  soul, 
“that  I may  pass  unnoticed  through  the 
world.” 

This  should  be  the  wish,  or  rather  the  aim 
of  all  true  devotion. 

Small  virtues  require  the  praise  of  man  to 
sustain  them,  just  as  little  children  require  en- 
couragement to  walk  or  stand  alone. 

But  true  virtue  goes  quietly  through  the 
world,  scattering  good  around,  and  performing 
noble  deeds,  without  even  the  knowledge  that 
what  it  does  is  heroic. 

XIV. 

Schantal,  one  day,  was  excusing  herself  to 
S.  Francois  de  Sales  for  having  spoken  hastily 
to  some  one,  on  the  plea  that  it  was  in  the 
cause  of  justice.  The  Saint  replied,  “You  have 
been  more  just  than  righteous;  but  we  should 
be  more  righteous  than  just.” 

XV. 

A devout  woman  once  wrote  thus:  “In  my 
own  family,  I try  to  be  as  little  in  the  way  as 
possible,  satisfied  with  everything,  and  never 
to  believe  for  a moment  that  any  one  means 
unkindly  toward  me.  ’ ’ 

“If  people  are  friendly  and  kind  to  me,  I en- 


20 


•GOLD  DUST. 


joy  it;  if  they  neglect  me,  or  leave  me,  I am 
always  happy  alone.  It  all  tends  to  my  one 
aim,  forgetfulness  of  self,  in  order  to  please 
God." 


XVI. 

Learning  is  not  without  its  effect  upon  the 
soul ; it  either  lends  it  wings,  to  bear  it  up  to 
God,  or  leaves  behind  it  tiny  sparks,  which,  lit- 
tle by  little  consume  the  whole  being. 

If  you  would  ascertain  all  the  good,  or  ill, 
you  have  derived  from  all  those  hours  devoted 
to  historians,  poets,  novelists,  or  philosophers, 
put  to  yourself  these  questions : Since- acquir- 
ing this  knowledge,  am  I wiser?  am  I better? 
am  I happier? 

Wiser?— that  is  to  say  more  self-controlled, 
less  the  slave  of  my  passions,  less  irritated  by 
small  vexations,  braver  in  bearing  misfortunes, 
more  careful  to  live  for  eternity? 

Better? — More  forbearing  toward  others, 
more  forgiving,  less  uncharitable,  more  reticent 
in  exposing  the  faults  of  others,  more  solicitous 
for  the  happiness  of  those  around  me? 

Happier? — That  would  mean  more  contented 
with  my  station  in  life,  striving  to  derive  all 
possible  benefits  from  it,  to  beautify  rather 
than  to  alter  it? 


GOLD  DUST. 


21 


Have  I more  faith  in  God,  and  more  calm 
ness  and  resignation  in  all  the  events  of  life? 

If  you  cannot  reply  in  the  affirmative,  then 
examine  your  heart  thoroughly,  and  you  will 
find  there,  stifling  the  good  that  God  has  im- 
planted, these  three  tyrants  that  have  obtained 
dominion  over  you : — (i.)  Pride,  (2.)  Ambition, 
(3.)  Self-conceit. 

From  them  have  sprung: — dissatisfaction 
and  contempt  of  your  life  and  its  surroundings, 
restlessness,  a longing  for  power  and  domin- 
ion over  others,  malice,  habitual  discontent, 
and  incessant  murmurings.  Have  you  any 
further  doubts?  then  inquire  of  those  with 
whom  you  live. 

Ah ! if  this  be  indeed  the  sad  result,  then 
whatever  may  be  your  age,  close,  oh ! close 
those  books,  and  seek  once  more  those  two 
elements  of  happiness  you  ought  never  to  have 
forsaken,  and  which,  had  you  made  them  the 
companions  of  your  study,  would  have  kept 
you  pure  and  good. 

I refer  to  prayer  and  manual  labor. 

XVII. 

Listen  to  the  story  of  a simple  shepherd, 
given  in  his  own  words: — “I  forget  now  who 
it  was  that  once  said  to  me:  Jean  Baptiste,  you 


22 


• GOLD  DUST. 


are  very  poor? — True. — If  you  fell  ill,  your 
wife  and  children  would  be  destitute? — True. 
And  then  I felt  anxious  and  uneasy  for  the  rest 
of  the  day. 

“At  Evensong,  wiser  thoughts  came  to  me, 
and  I said  to  myself:  Jean  Baptiste,  for  more 
than  thirty  years  you  have  lived  in  the  world, 
you  have  never  possessed  anything,  yet  still 
you  live  on,  and  have  been  provided  each  day 
with  nourishment,  each  night  with  repose. 
Of  trouble  God  has  never  sent  you  more  than 
your  share.  Of  help,  the  means  have  never 
failed  you.  To  whom  do  you  owe  all  this? 
To  God.  Jean  Baptiste,  be  no  longer  ungrate- 
ful, and  banish  those  anxious  thoughts;  for 
what  could  ever  induce  you  to  think  that  the 
Hand  from  which  you  have  already  received 
so  much,  would  close  against  you  when  you 
grow  old,  and  have  greater  need  of  help?  I 
finished  my  prayer,  and  felt  at  peace.” 

XVIII. 

The  work  of  the  Sower  is  given  to  each  of  us 
in  this  world,  and  we  fall  short  of  our  duty 
when  we  let  those  with  whom  we  are  brought 
in  contact  leave  us  without  having  given  them 
a kind  thought,  or  pious  impression. 

Nothing  is  so  sad  as  the  cry,  “I  am  useless!” 
happily  none  need  ever  be  so. 


GOLD  DUST. 


23 


A kind  word,  a gentle  act,  a modest  demean- 
or, a loving  smile,  are  as  so  many  seeds  that 
we  can  scatter  every  moment  of  our  lives,  and 
which  will  always  spring  up  and  bear  fruit. 

Happy  are  those,  who  have  many  around 
them  . . . they  are  rich  in  opportunities,  and 
may  sow  plenteously. 

XIX. 

Few  positions  in  life  are  so  full  of  importun- 
ities as  that  of  the  mother  of  a family,  or  mis- 
tress of  a house.  She  may  have  a dozen 
interruptions  while  writing  one  letter  or  set- 
tling an  account.  What  holiness,  what  self- 
control  is  needed  to  be  always  calm  and 
unruffled  amid  these  little  vexations,  and  never 
to  manifest  the  slightest  impatience! 

Leaving  the  work  without  apparent  annoy- 
ance, replying  with  a smile  upon  the  lips, 
awaiting  patiently  the  end  of  a long  conversa- 
tion, and  finally  returning  calmly  to  the  yet 
unfinished  work, — all  this  is  the  sign  of  a rec- 
ollected soul,  and  one  that  waits  upon  God. 

Oh!  what  blessings  are  shed  around  them  by 
such  patient  souls  . . . but,  alas!  how  rarely 
they  are  to  be  met  with! 

XX. 

There  are  times  in  one  s life  when  all  the 
world  seems  to  turn  against  us.  Our  motives 


24 


GOLD  DUST. 


are  misunderstood,  our  words  misconstrued,  a 
malicious  smile  or  an  unkind  word  reveals  to 
us  the  unfriendly  feelings  of  others.  Our  ad- 
vances are  repulsed,  or  met  with  icy  coldness; 
a dry  refusal  arrests  on  our  lips  the  offer  of 
help.  . . . 

Oh!  how  hard  it  all  seems,  and  the  more  so, 
that  we  cannot  divine  the  cause. 

Courage,  patience,  poor  disconsolate  one! 
God  is  making  a furrow  in  your  heart,  where 
He  will  surely  sow  His  grace. 

It  is  rare  when  injustice,  or  slights  patiently 
borne,  do  not  leave  the  heart  at  the  close  of 
the  day  filled  with  marvelous  joy  and  peace. 

It  is  the  seed  God  has  sown,  springing  up 
and  bearing  fruit. 


XXI. 

That  which  costs  little,  is  of  little  worth. 
This  thought  should  make  us  tremble.  In  our 
self-examination  we  may  experience  at  times  a 
certain  satisfaction  in  noticing  the  little  vir- 
tues we  may  possess,  above  all,  those,  that  ren- 
der us  pleasing  in  the  eyes  of  others. 

For  instance,  we  may  like  to  pray  at  a cer- 
tain place,  with  certain  sentiments;  and  we 
think  ourselves  devout;  we  are  gentle,  polite, 
and  smiling  toward  one  person  in  particular; 


GOLD  DUST. 


25 


patient  with  those  we  fear,  or  in  whose  good 
opinion  we  would  stand;  we  are  devoted, 
charitable,  generous,  because  the  heart  expe- 
riences an  unspeakable  pleasure  in  spending  and 
being  spent  for  others;  we  suffer  willingly  at 
the  hands  of  some  one  we  love,  and  then  say, 
we  are  patient ; we  are  silent  because  we  have 
no  inclination  to  speak;  shunning  society, 
because  we  fail  to  shine  there,  and  then  fancy 
that  we  love  retirement. 

Take  these  virtues  that  give  you  such  self- 
satisfaction,  one  by  one,  and  ask  yourself  at 
what  sacrifice,  labor,  or  cost,  above  all,  with 
what  care  you  have  managed  to  acquire  them. 
. . . Alas!  you  will  find  that  all  the  patience, 
affability,  generosity  and  piety  are  but  as 
nought,  springing  from  a heart  puffed  up  with 
pride.  It  costs  nothing,  and  it  is  worthless. 

As  self-sacrifice,  says  De  Maistre,  is  the 
basis  and  essence  of  virtue,  so  those  virtues  are 
the  most  meritorious  that  have  cost  the  great- 
est effort  to  attain. 

Do  not  look  with  so  much  pride  on  this  col- 
lection of  virtues,  but  rather  bring  yourself  to 
account  for  your  faults.  Take  just  one,  the 
first  that  comes,  impatience,  sloth,  gossip,  un- 
charitableness, sulkiness,  whatever  it  may  be, 
and  attack  it  bravely. 


26 


GOLD  DUST. 


It  will  take  at  least  a month,  calculating 
upon  three  victories  every  day,  not,  indeed,  to 
eradicate  it — a fault  is  not  so  short-lived — but 
to  prevent  its  attaining  dominion  over  you. 

That  one  subdued,  then  take  another.  It  is 
the  work  of  a lifetime ; and  truly  to  our  faults 
may  we  apply  the  saying: — “Quand  il  n’y  en 
a plus,  il  y en  a encore.” 

‘‘Happy  should  I think  myself,”  said  St. 
Francis  de  Sales,  ‘‘if  I could  rid  myself  of  my 
imperfections  but  one  quarter  of  an  hour  pre- 
vious to  my  death. 

XXII. 

Before  Holy  Communion. 

JESUS. 

My  child,  it  is  not  wisdom  I require  of  thee, 
it  sufiiceth  if  thou  lovest  Me  well,  speak  to 
Me  as  thou  wouldst  talk  to  thy  mother  if  she 
were  here,  pressing  thee  to  her  heart. 

Hast  thou  none,  for  whom  thou  wouldst  in- 
tercede? Tell  Me  the  names  of  thy  kindred 
and  thy  friends;  and  at  the  mention  of  each 
name,  add  what  thou  wouldst  have  Me  do  for 
them.  Ask  much,  fervently;  the  generous 
hearts  that  forget  themselves  for  others  are 
very  dear  unto  Me. 

Tell  Me  of  the  poor  thou  wouldst  succor, 


GOLD  DUST. 


27 


the  sick  thou  hast  seen  suffering,  the  sinful 
thou  wouldst  reclaim,  the  estranged  thou 
wouldst  receive  to  thy  heart  again. 

Pray  fervently  for  all  mankind. 

Remind  Me  of  My  promise  to  hear  all  pray- 
ers that  proceed  from  the  heart;  and  the  prayer 
offered  for  one  who  loves  us,  and  is  dear  to  us, 
is  sure  to  be  heartfelt  and  fervent. 

Hast  thou  no  favors  to  ask  of  Me?  Give  Me, 
if  thou  wilt,  a list  of  all  thy  desires,  all  the 
wants  of  thy  soul.  Tell  Me,  simply,  of  all 
thy  pride,  sensuality,  self-love,  sloth ; and  ask 
for  My  help  in  thy  struggles  to  overcome 
them. 

Poor  child!  be  not  abashed;  many  that  had 
the  same  faults  to  contend  against,  are  now 
Saints  in  heaven. 

They  cried  to  Me  for  help,  and  by  degrees 
they  conquered. 

Do  not  hesitate  to  ask  for  temporal  bless- 
ings, health,  intellect,  success — I can  bestow 
it,  and  never  fail  to  do  so,  where  it  tends  to 
make  the  soul  more  holy.  What  wouldst  thou 
this  day,  My  child.  ...  If  thou  didst  but 
know  how  I long  to  bless  thee ! . . . 

Hast  thou  no  interests  which  occupy  thy 
mind? 

Tell  Me  of  them  all.  ...  Of  thy  vocation 


28 


GOLD  DUST. 


What  dost  thou  think?  What  dost  thou  desire? 
Wouldst  thou  give  pleasure  to  thy  mother,  thy 
family,  those  in  authority  over  thee,  what 
wouldst  thou  do  for  them? 

And  for  Me,  hast  thou  no  ardor?  Dost  thou 
not  desire  to  do  some  good  to  the  souls  of 
those  thou  lovest,  but  who  arc  forgetful  of  Me? 

Tell  Me  of  one  in  whom  thou  hast  interest; 
the  motive  that  actuates: — the  means  thou 
wouldst  employ. 

Lay  before  Me  thy  failures,  and  I will  teach 
thee  the  cause. 

Whom  wouldst  thou  have  to  help  thee?  The 
hearts  of  all  are  in  My  keeping,  and  I lead 
them  gently,  wheresoever  I will.  Rest  as- 
sured, all  who  are  needful  to  thee,  I will  place 
around  thee. 

O ! My  child,  tell  Me  of  all  thy  weariness : 
who  has  grieved  thee?  treated  thee  with  con- 
tempt? wounded  thy  self-love? 

Tell  Me  all,  and  thou  wilt  end  by  saying, 
all  is  forgiven,  all  forgotten  . . . and  I,  surely 
I will  bless  thee!  . . . 

Art  thou  fearful  of  the  future? — Is  there  in 
thy  heart  that  vague  dread,  that  thou  canst  not 
define,  but  which  nevertheless  torments  thee? 

Trust  in  My  Providence  ...  I am  present 


GOLD  DUST. 


29 


with  thee,  I know  all,  and  I will  never  leave 
thee,  nor  forsake  thee. 

Are  there  around  thee,  those  seemingly  less 
devout  than  formerly;  whose  coldness  or  in- 
difference have  estranged  thee  from  them, 
without  real  cause?  . . . 

Pray  for  them — I can  draw  them  back  to 
thee,  if  they  are  necessary  to  the  sanctification 
of  thy  soul. 

What  are  the  joys,  of  which  thou  hast  to  tell 
Me? 

Let  Me  share  thy  pleasures:  tell  Me  of  all 
that  has  occurred  since  yesterday,  to  comfort 
thee,  please  thee,  to  give  thee  joy! 

That  fear  suddenly  dispelled — that  unex- 
pected success — that  token  of  affection — the 
trial  that  proved  thee  stronger  than  thou 
thoughtest.  . . . 

My  child,  I sent  it  all ; why  not  show  some 
gratitude,  and  simply  thank  thy  Lord? 

Gratitude  draws  down  a blessing,  and  the 
Great  Benefactor  likes  His  children  to  remind 
him  of  His  Goodness. 

Hast  thou  no  promises  to  make  to  Me? — I 
can  read  thy  heart — thou  knowest  it;  thou 
mayst  deceive  man,  but  thou  canst  never  de- 
ceive God.  Be  sincere. 

Art  thou  resolved  to  avoid  all  occasions  of 


30 


GOLD  DUST. 


sin? — to  renounce  that  which  tempts  thee — • 
never  again  to  open  the  book  that  excites  thine 
imagination? — Not  to  bestow  thine  affection 
on  one  who  is  not  devout,  and  whose  presence 
steals  the  peace  from  thy  soul? 

Wilt  thou  go  now,  and  be  loving  and  for- 
bearing toward  one  who  has  vexed  thee?  . . . 

Good,  My  child!  . . . Go,  then,  return  to 
thy  daily  toil;  be  silent,  humble,  resigned, 
charitable — then  return  to  Me  with  a heart  yet 
more  loving  and  devoted,  and  I shall  have  for 
thee  fresh  blessings. 

XXIII. 

“There  will  soon  be  none  left,"  said  S. 
Francis  de  Sales,  “who  will  love  poor  sinners, 
but  God  and  myself.  ” 

Oh!  why  do  we  fail  in  love  toward  those 
poor  sinful  ones!  Are  they  not  very  much  to 
be  pitied? 

When  they  are  prosperous,  pray  for  them ; 
but  when  misfortune  comes  (and  trouble 
weighs  heavily  upon  the  wicked),  death  depriv- 
ing them  of  the  only  beings  they  did  not  hate 
— afflicting  them  with  a loathsome  disease — 
delivering  them  up  to  scorn  and  misery — oh! 
then,  when  all  this  comes  upon  them,  love 
them  freely.  It  is  by  affection  alone  that  we 


GOLD  DUST. 


31 


can  reach  the  worst  characters,  and  the  souls 
that  are  steeped  in  sin ! 

How  many  have  died  impenitent,  who  if  only 
some  one  had  cared  for  them,  and  shown  them 
love,  might  have  become  at  last  saints  in 
heaven.  Oh ! the  sins  that  are  committed ; oh ! 
the  souls  we  suffer  to  wander  from  God,  and 
all  because  we  are  so  wanting  in  love  toward 
them. 

XXIV. 

Let  us  always  be  on  our  guard  against  Prej- 
udice. 

Some  women  have  a way  (of  which  they 
themselves  are  unconscious)  of  turning  the  cold 
shoulder,  to  some  one  member  of  their  family. 

For  what  reason?  they  cannot  say,  simply 
because  the  cause  is  never  very  clearly  defined, 
and  in  this  lies  all  the  mischief. 

Perhaps  an  air  of  indifference,  they  may 
have  fancied,  and  which  arose  merely  from 
fatigue,  or  trouble  that  could  not  be  confided 
to  them : 

A word  misinterpreted,  because  heard  at  a 
time  when  they  felt  discontented,  and  their 
morbid  imagination  made  everything  appear 
in  a false  light: 

Some  scandal,  to  which  they  ought  never  to 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 


32 


GOLD  DUST. 


have  listened,  or  at  least,  should  have  endeav- 
ored to  fathom,  going  direct  to  the  person  con- 
cerned and  seeking  an  explanation.  . . . 

And,  behold  the  result ; they  in  their  turn 
become  cold,  reserved  and  suspicious,  misinter- 
preting the  slightest  gesture  ...  in  a few 
days  arises  a coldness,  from  the  feeling  they 
are  no  longer  beloved ; then  follow  contempt 
and  mistrust;  finally,  a hatred  that  gnaws,  and 
rends  the  very  heart. 

It  all  springs  up  imperceptibly,  till  at  last 
the  family  life  is  one  of  bitterness  and  misery. 

They  console,  or  better  still,  excuse  them- 
selves, with  the  thought  of  their  suffering, 
never  considering  how  much  pain  they  give  to 
others,  nor  where  the  fault  lies. 

XXV. 

Let  it  rest ! Ah ! how  many  hearts  on  the 
brink  of  anxiety  and  disquietude,  by  this 
simple  sentence,  have  been  made  calm  and 
happy ! 

Some  proceeding  has  wounded  us,  by  its 
want  of  tact ; let  it  rest,  no  one  will  think  of  it 
again. 

A harsh  or  unjust  sentence  irritates  us ; let 
it  rest ; whoever  may  have  given  vent  to  it, 
will  be  pleased  to  see  it  is  forgotten. 


GOLD  DUST. 


33 


A painful  scandal  is  about  to  estrange  us  from 
an  old  friend;  let  it  rest,  and  thus  preserve  our 
charity  and  peace  of  mind. 

A suspicious  look  is  on  the  point  of  cooling 
our  affection ; let  it  rest ; and  our  look  of  trust 
will  restore  confidence.  . . . 

Fancy!  we  who  are  so  careful  to  remove  the 
briars  from  our  pathway,  for  fear  they  should 
wound,  yet  take  pleasure  in  collecting  and 
piercing  our  hearts  with  the  thorns  that  meet 
us  in  our  daily  intercourse  with  one  another. 
How  childish  and  unreasonable  we  are ! 

XXVI. 

Of  all  the  means  placed  by  Providence  within 
our  reach,  whereby  we  may  lead  souls  to  Him, 
there  is  one,  more  blessed  than  all  others — 
Intercessory  Prayer. 

How  often,  in  the  presence  of  one  deeply 
loved,  but  alas!  estranged  from  God,  the  heart 
of  mother  or  wife  has  felt  a sudden  impulse  to 
say  an  earnest  word,  propose  an  act  of  devotion, 
to  paint  in  glowing  colors  the  blessings  of 
faith,  and  the  happiness  of  virtue  . . . and  she 
has  stopped,  deterred  by  an  irresistible  fear  of 
how  the  words  may  be  received ; and  she  says 
to  herself,  poor  woman:  “To-morrow  I shall 
be  braver. 99 

3 Gold  Dust 


34 


GOLD  DUST. 


Poor  mother!  poor  wife!  go  and  tell  to  your 
Heavenly  Father,  all  you  would,  but  dare  not 
say  to  the  loved  one  who  gives  you  so  much 
paiin 

Lay  that  sin-sick  soul  before  the  Lord,  as 
long  ago  they  laid  the  paralytic  man  who  could 
not,  or  perhaps  would  not,  be  led  to  Him. 

Plead  for  him,  with  the  long-suffering  Sav- 
ior, as  you  would  plead  with  an  earthly  mas- 
ter, upon  whom  depended  all  his  future  wel- 
fare, and  say  to  Him  simply:  “Lord,  have 
patience  with  him  yet  a little  longer.” 

Tell  God  of  all  your  anxiety,  your  discourage- 
ments, the  means  employed  for  success. 

Ask  Him  to  teach  you  what  to  say,  and  how 
to  act.  One  sentence  learnt  of  God  in  prayer, 
will  do  more  for  the  conversion  of  a soul,  than 
all  our  poor  human  endeavors.  That  sentence 
will  escape  our  lips  involuntarily.  We  may 
not  remember  that  we  have  said  it,  but  it  will 
sink  deep  into  the  heart,  making  a lasting 
impression,  and  silently  fulfilling  its  mission. 

You  are  perhaps,  surprised,  after  many  years, 
to  see  such  poor  results.  Ah!  how  little  can 
you  judge!  . . . 

Do  you  know  what  you  have  gained?  In  the 
first  place,  time, — often  a physical  impossibil- 
ity to  sin,  which  you  may  attribute  to  chance, 


Christ  as  Master,  Counsellor  and  Guide. 

Gold  Dust. 


GOLD  DUST. 


35 


tut  which  was,  in  reality,  the  work  of  Provi- 
dence ; and  is  it  nothing,  one  sin  the  less,  in 
the  life  of  an  immortal  soul?  . . . Then  a 
vague  uneasiness,  which  will  soon  allow  of  no 
rest — a confidence  which  may  enable  you  to 
sympathize — more  liberty  left  you  for  the  exer- 
cise of  religious  acts — you  no  longer  see  the 
contemptuous  smile  at  your  acts  of  devotion. 
Is  all  this  nothing? 

Ah ! if  while  on  your  knees,  praying  for  the 
one  you  would  have  reconciled  to  God,  you 
could  but  see  what  is  passing  in  his  soul ; the 
wrestlings,  the  remorse  he  strives  vainly  to 
stifle;  if  you  could  see  the  work  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  the  heart,  gently,  but  firmly  triumph- 
ing over  the  will,  how  earnestly,  how  inces- 
santly, would  you  continue  to  pray ! 

Only  have  patience  to  wait — perseverance, 
not  to  grow  weary. 

It  is  the  want  of  patience,  that  often  makes 
us  exacting,  toward  those  we  desire  to  help. 

More  haste,  less  speed,  is  an  old  saying;  the 
more  we  are  exacting,  the  less  likely  are  we  to 
succeed. 

Men  like  to  act  freely,  and  to  have  the  credit 
of  their  actions. 

It  is  because  we  have  not  learnt  to  persevere, 
that  the  work  seems  never  to  progress. 


36 


GOLD  DUST. 


Courage  then ! the  ground  may  seem  too  dry 
for  cultivation,  but  each  prayer  will  be  as  a 
drop  of  water ; the  marble  may  be  very  hard, 
but  each  prayer  is  like  the  hammer’s  stroke, 
that  wears  away  its  roughness. 

XXVII. 

The  sweet  peace  of  God  bears  the  outward 
token  of  resignation. 

When  the  Holy  Spirit  dwells  within  us  every- 
thing seems  bright. 

Everything  may  not  be  exactly  as  we  would 
wish  it,  but  we  accept  all,  with  a good  grace. 
. . . For  instance,  some  change,  in  our  house- 
hold, or  mode  of  living,  upsets  us.  If  God  is 
with  us,  He  will  whisper:  Yield  cheerfully  thy 
will — in  a little  while  all  will  be  forgotten.  ” 

Some  command  or  employment  wounds  our 
pride;  if  God  is  with  us,  He  will  say  to  us:  “Be 
submissive,  and  I will  come  to  thine  aid.” 

We  may  dislike  a certain  neighborhood;  the 
society  there  may  be  repulsive  to  us,  and  we 
are  about  to  become  morbid ; God  will  tell  us 
to  continue  gracious  and  smiling,  for  He  will 
recompense  the  little  annoyances  we  may 
experience.  If  you  would  discern  in  whom 
God’s  Spirit  dwells,  watch  that  person,  and 
notice  whether  you  ever  hear  him  murmur. 


GOLD  DUST. 


37 


XXVIII. 

I WANT  TO  BE  HOLY. 

Heavenly  Father,  aid  Thy  child,  who  longs 
to  become  holy ! 

But  then  I must  be  patient  under  humiliation 
— let  myself  be  forgotten,  and  be  even  pleased 
at  feeling  myself  set  aside. 

Never  mind!  I am  resolved,  I wish  to  be 
holy ! 

But  I must  never  excuse  myself,  never  be 
impatient,  never  out  of  temper. 

Never  mind!  I am  resolved,  I wish  to  be 
holy! 

Then  I must  continually  be  doing  violence  to 
my  feelings — submitting  my  will  always  to  that 
of  my  superiors — never  contentious — never 
sulky,  finishing  every  work  begun,  in  spite  of 
dislike  or  ennui. 

Never  mind!  I am  resolved,  I wish  to  be 
holy! 

But,  then,  I must  be  always  charitable 
toward  all  around  me;  loving  them,  helping 
them  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  although  it 
may  cause  me  trouble. 

Never  mind!  I am  resolved,  I wish  to  be 
holy! 

But  I must  constantly  strive  against  the 


38 


GOLD  DUST. 


cowardice,  sloth,  and  pride  of  my  nature, 
renouncing  the  world,  the  vanity  that  pleases, 
the  sensuality  that  rejoices  me;  the  antipathy 
that  makes  me  avoid  those  I do  not  like. 

Never  mind!  I am  resolved,  I still  wish  to 
be  holy ! 

Then,  I shall  have  to  experience  long  hours 
of  weariness,  sadness,  and  discontent.  I shall 
often  feel  lonely,  and  discouraged. 

Never  mind!  I am  resolved,  I wish  to  be 
holy ! for  then  I shall  have  Thee  always  with 
me,  ever  near  me.  Lord!  help  me,  for  I want 
to  be  holy! 

HOW  TO  BECOME  HOLY. 

Oh ! it  is  quite  easy ! if  I fulfil  every  duty, 
to  the  best  of  my  ability;  and  many  who  had 
no  more  to  do  than  I,  have  become  Saints. 

One  day  is  the  same  as  another.  Prayer, 
worldly  business,  calls  to  be  devout,  charit- 
able, and  faithful : these  are  the  duties  that 
each  hour  brings  in  its  turn;  and  if  I am  faith- 
ful in  their  fulfilment,  God  will  be  always 
ready  to  help  me,  and  then  what  signifies  a 
little  ennui,  pain,  or  misfortune? 

THE  SANCTIFICATION  OF  DAILY  DUTIES. 

I will  perform  them,  as  in  God’s  sight,  con- 
scious that  He  is  present,  and  smiling  on  my 
efforts. 


GOLD  DUST. 


39 


I will  perform  each,  if  I had  but  one  to 
accomplish,  striving  to  render  it  as  perfect  as 
possible. 

I will  fulfil  each  duty,  as  if  upon  that  one 
alone  depended  my  salvation. 

MOTIVES  FOR  SANCTIFYING  MY  ACTIONS. 

God  expects  me  to  honor  Him  by  that  action. 

God  has  attached  a special  blessing  to  that 
action,  and  awaits  its  fulfilment  to  bestow  it. 

God  notes  each  action : and  of  them  all  here- 
after I must  give  an  account. 

God  will  see  that  I love  Him,  if  I strive  to 
fulfil  every  duty,  in  spite  of  weariness  and 
trouble. 

I honor  God  by  this  action,  and  I,  poor, 
weak,  sinful  child,  am  allowed  to  glorify  Him, 
in  place  of  those  who  blaspheme,  and  rebel 
against  the  Divine  will. 

XXIX. 

They  say  there  is  nothing  which  communi- 
cates itself  so  quickly  amongst  the  members  of 
a family,  as  an  expression  of  coldness  or  dis- 
content on  the  face  of  one  of  its  members.  It 
is  like  the  frost  that  chills  us.  This  is  not 
altogether  true;  there  is  something  which  is 
communicated  with  equal  rapidity,  and  greater 


40 


GOLD  DUST. 


force — I mean  the  smiling  face,  the  beaming 
countenance,  the  happy  heart. 

XXX. 

LITTLE  WORRIES. 

There  is  not  a day  in  our  lives,  that  we  are 
not  distressed  by  some  one  of  those  number- 
less little  worries  that  meet  us  at  every  step, 
and  which  are  inevitable. 

The  wound  made  may  not  be  deep,  but  the 
constant  pricks  each  day  renewed,  embitter 
the  character,  destroy  peace,  create  anxiety, 
and  make  the  family  life,  that  otherwise  would 
be  so  sweet  and  peaceful,  almost  unendurable. 

Life  is  full  of  these  little  miseries.  Each 
hour  brings  with  it  its  own  trouble. 

Here  are  some  of  the  little  worries: — An 
impatient  word  escapes  our  lips,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  some  one  in  whose  estimation  we  would 
stand  well. 

A servant  does  his  work  badly,  fidgets  us  by 
his  slowness,  irritates  us  by  his  thoughtlessness, 
and  his  awkward  blunders  make  us  blush. 

A giddy  child  in  its  clumsiness  breaks  some- 
thing of  value,  or  that  we  treasure  on  account 
of  its  associations:  we  are  charged  with  a mes- 
sage of  importance,  and  our  forgetfulness  makes 


GOLD  DUST. 


41 


us  appear  uncourteous,  perhaps  ungrateful: 
some  one  we  live  with  is  constantly  finding 
fault,  nothing  pleases  them.  If,  when  night 
comes,  we  find  we  have  not  experienced  these 
little  worries,  then  we  ought  to  be  grateful  to 
God.  Each  of  these,  and  many  more,  are 
liable  to  befall  us  every  day  of  our  life. 

HOW  TO  BEAR  LITTLE  WORRIES. 

In  the  first  place,  expect  them.  Make  them 
the  subject  of  our  morning  prayers,  and  say  to 
ourselves:  Here  is  my  daily  cross,  do  I accept 

willingly?  Surely!  for  it  is  God  who  sends  it. 
After  all  . . . these  little  troubles,  looked  at 
calmly,  what  are  they?  Ah!  if  there  were 
never  any  worse ! 

Secondly,  we  must  be  prepared  for  them. 
You  know,  if  you  wish  to  break  the  force  of  a 
blow  falling  on  you,  3rou  naturally  bend  the 
body ; so  let  us  act  with  regard  to  our  souls. 

Accustom  yourself,  wrote  a pious  author,  to 
stoop  with  sweet  condescension,  not  only  to 
exigencies  (that  is  your  duty)  but  to  the  simple 
wishes  of  those  who  surround  you — the  acci- 
dents which  may  intervene : you  will  find  your- 
self seldom,  if  ever,  crushed. 

To  bend  is  better  than  to  bear;  to  bear,  is 
often  a little  hard;  to  bend,  implies  a certain 


42 


GOLD  DUST. 


internal  sweetness,  that  yields  all  constraint, 
sacrificing  the  wishes,  even  in  holy  things, 
when  they  tend  to  cause  disagreements  in  the 
family  circle. 

Submission  often  implies  an  entire  resigna- 
tion, to  all  that  God  permits.  The  soul  that 
endures,  feels  the  weight  of  its  trouble.  The 
soul  that  yields  scarcely  perceives  it. 

Blest  are  those  docile  ones : they  are  those 
whom  God  selects,  to  work  for  Him. 

XXXI. 

TO  OBTAIN  PEACE. 

Approach  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  O restless 
soul  in  search  of  peace,  and  humbly  kneeling 
there,  pour  forth  bravely,  slowly,  and  with 
earnest  desire,  the  following  prayer: — 

O Jesus,  gentle  and  humble  of  heart,  hear 
me! 

From  the  desire  of  being  esteemed, 

From  the  desire  of  being  loved, 

From  the  desire  to  be  sought, 

Deliver  me,  Jesus. 
From  the  desire  to  be  mourned, 

From  the  desire  of  praise, 

From  the  desire  of  preference, 

From  the  desire  of  influence, 

From  the  desire  of  approval, 


GOLD  DUST. 


43 


From  the  desire  of  authority, 

From  the  fear  of  humiliation, 

From  the  fear  of  being  despised, 

From  the  fear  of  repulse, 

From  the  fear  of  calumny, 

From  the  fear  of  oblivion, 

From  the  fear  of  ridicule, 

From  the  fear  of  injury, 

From  the  fear  of  suspicion, 

Deliver  me,  Jesus. 

That  others  may  be  loved  more  than  myself. 
Jesus  grant  this  desire. 

That  others  may  be  more  highly  esteemed. 

That  others  may  grow  and  increase  in  honor, 
and  I decrease.  Jesus,  grant  me  to  desire  it. 

That  others  may  be  employed,  and  I set 
aside.  Jesus,  grant  me  to  desire  this. 

That  others  may  attract  the  praise,  and  my- 
self be  forgotten. 

That  others  may  be  preferred  in  all. 

Grant  me  the  utmost  holiness  of  which  I 
am  capable,  then  let  others  be  holier  than 
myself.  Jesus,  grant  me  to  desire  it! 

Oh,  if  God  hearkens, — and  hearken  He  surely 
will,  if  your  prayer  has  been  sincere — what  joy 
in  your  heart,  what  peace  on  your  counte- 
nance, what  sweetness  will  pervade  your  whole 
life! 


44 


GOLD  DUST. 


More  than  half  one’s  troubles  arise  from  an 
exaggerated  idea  of  one’s  own  importance, 
and  the  efforts'we  make  to  increase  our  posi- 
tion in  the  world.  Lacordaire  says  that  the 
sweetest  thing  on  earth,  is  to  be  forgotten  by 
'all,  with  the  exception  of  those  who  love  us. 
All  else  brings  more  trouble  than  joy,  and  as 
soon  as  we  have  completed  our  task  here,  and 
fulfilled  our  mission,  the  best  thing  for  us  to 
do,  is  to  disappear  altogether. 

Let  us  each  cultivate  carefully  and  joyously 
the  portion  of  soil,  Providence  has  committed 
to  our  care.  Let  us  never  be  hindered,  or  dis- 
tracted by  ambitious  thoughts,  that  we  could 
do  better,  or  a false  zeal  tempting  us  to  forsake 
our  daily  task  with  the  vain  desire  to  surpass 
our  neighbors.  . . . Let  this  one  thought 
occupy  our  minds.  To  do  well  what  is  given 
us  to  do,  for  this  is  all  that  God  requires  at  our 
hands.  It  may  be  summed  up  in  four  words: 
— simply — zealously — cheerfully  — completely. 

Then  if  we  are  slighted,  misunderstood, 
maligned,  or  persecuted,  what  does  it  matter? 
these  injuries  will  pass  away ; but  the  peace 
and  love  of  God  will  remain  with  us  forever, 
the  reward  of  our  faith  and  patience.  The 
love  of  God!  who  can  describe  all  the  joy, 
strength,  and  consolation  it  reveals? 


GOLD  DUST. 


45 


Never  has  human  love,  in  its  brightest 
dreams,  been  able  to  form  any  idea  of  all  the 
sweetness,  the  love  of  God  imparts  to  the  soul, 
and  which  is  brought  still  nearer  to  us  in  the 
Blessed  Sacrament. 

I can  well  understand  the  words  of  a loving 
soul:  “With  heaven  so  near,  and  daily  com- 
munion with  our  God,  how  can  we  ever  re- 
pine!” 

XXXII. 

After  Holy  Communion. 

OUR  FATHER  WHICH  ART  IN  HEAVEN. 

O Jesus!  it  is  Thou  who  biddest  me  say, 
Father!  My  Father!  oh  how  that  Name  re- 
joices my  heart!  My  Father!  I can  no  longer 
feel  alone,  and  whatever  may  happen  to  me 
this  day  I feel  I am  protected,  comforted,  be- 
loved. 

Jesus!  let  me  dwell  on  the  sweeetness  of 
those  words;  My  Father!  I need  not  lift  my 
eyes  to  heaven,  Thou  art  within  me,  and 
where  Thou  dwellest  heaven  must  be. 

Yes!  heaven  is  within  me!  heaven  with  all 
its  peace  and  love,  and  if  I keep  free  from 
guile  this  day,  my  day  will  be  one  of  heavenly 
joy,  and  in  addition,  the  privilege  of  suffering 
for  Thee. 


46 


GOLD  DUST. 


HALLOWED  BE  THY  NAME. 

To  hallow  Thy  Name,  O Lord!  is  to  pro- 
nounce it  with  reverence  and  awe. 

To-day  I will  pray  more  fervently — try  to 
realize  Thy  Presence,  Thy  Goodness,  Thy 
Love,  and  my  heart  shall  be  a sanctuary,  into 
which  nothing  shall  penetrate,  that  could  be 
displeasing  unto  Thee. 

To  hallow  Thy  name — is  to  call  upon  it  fer- 
vently, to  have  it  constantly  upon  my  lips ; 
above  all  before  taking  an  important  step — 
when  there  are  difficulties  to  be  overcome,  I 
will  softly  whisper  the  Invocation,  which  is 
the  secret  of  all  holy  living!  “Jesus,  meek 
and  humble  of  heart,  have  pity  upon  me.” 

THY  KINGDOM  COME. 

O Jesus,  Thy  kingdom  is  within  my  heart, 
reign  there  in  all  Thy  sovereignty  and  power, 
reign  there  absolutely! 

My  King!  what  dost  Thou  require  of  me  to- 
day? Thy  commandments,  my  rule  of  life,  my 
daily  duties,  these  are  Thy  commands  that  I 
will  promise  to  obey — more  than  that,  I will 
regard  all  in  authority  over  me,  as  Thine 
Ambassadors,  speaking  to  me  in  Thy  Name. 
What  matters  the  tone,  or  the  harshness  of  the 
order? 


GOLD  DUST. 


47 


What  does  it  signify  if  some  unexpected 
command  upsets  all  my  previous  plans?  It  is 
Thy  Voice  I hear,  Thou  Lord,  Whom  I will  obey 
always,  and  in  all  things.  Thy  kingdom  is 
also  in  the  hearts  of  others ; and  there  would 
I see  Thee  reigning.  Then  to  whom  can 
I speak  of  Thee  this  day?  What  counsels  can 
I give?  What  moments  may  I seize,  in  which 
without  wounding  the  feelings  or  parading  my 
zeal,  I may  be  allowed  to  speak  a few  words 
of  piety?  Lord!  let  me  have  the  opportunity 
to  help  another  to  love  Thee! 

THY  WILL  BE  DONE  ON  EARTH,  AS  IT  IS  IN  HEAVEN. 

Yes!  yes!  Thy  Will  be  done!  Thy  sweet 
all-perfect  Will! 

What  wilt  Thou  send  me  to-day? 

Humiliation?  Provocation?  Sufferings?  A 
fresh  rending  of  the  heart?  A disappointment? 
Shall  I see  myself  misjudged,  falsely  sus- 
pected, despised?  I accept  beforehand,  all 
that  Thou  sendest  me,  and  if  through  weak- 
ness I weep,  suffer  it  to  be  so — if  I murmur, 
check  me ; if  I am  vexed,  correct  me ; if  hope- 
less, encourage  me. 

Yes!  yes!  Let  Thy  sweet  and  holy  Will  be 
done! 

Even,  O Lord,  if  to  glorify  Thee,  I must  be 


43 


GOLD  DUST. 


humiliated,  suffering,  useless  and  forsaken, 
still,  Lord,  stay  not  Thine  Hand,  I am  wholly 
Thine. 

GIVE  U3  THIS  DAY  OUR  DAILY  BREAD. 

How  blessed,  O Lord,  to  depend  only  upon 
Thee.  . . . behold  me,  Thy  child,  waiting 
with  outstretched  hand  to  receive  Thy  benefits. 

Grant  me  my  temporal  blessings;  clothing, 
nourishment,  shelter.  . . . but  not  too  much 
of  anything ; and  let  me  have  the  happiness  of 
sharing  my  blessings,  with  those  poorer  than 
myself,  to-day.  Grant  me  the  blessing  of 
intelligence,  that  I may  read,  or  hear  one  of 
those  golden  counsels,  that  elevate  the  soul  and 
lend  wings  to  the  thoughts. 

Grant  me  the  loving  heart,  O .my  Father! 
that  I may  feel  for  a moment  how  I love  Thee, 
and  Thy  love  toward  me ; let  me  sacrifice  my- 
self for  the  welfare  of  another.  Give  me  the 
bread  of  Life.  The  Holy  Eucharist!  I have 
just  received  it,  Lord!  Grant  me  again  ere 
long  that  great  blessing.  And  then,  give 
all  these  blessings  to  those  I love,  and  who 
love  me! 

FORGIVE  US  OUR  TRESPASSES,  AS  WE  FORGIVE 
THEM  THAT  TRESPASS  AGAINST  US. 

When  I pronounce  the  word  of  pardon,  what 
a weight  seems  lifted  from  my  heart! 


GOLD  DUST. 


49 


I will  not  only  banish  every  feeling  of 
hatred,  I will  efface  every  painful  remembrance. 
O God,  if  Thou  forgivest  me,  as  I forgive 
others,  what  mercy  for  me! 

Thou  seest  I bear  no  malice,  that  I forget  all 
injuries.  . . . 

I have  been  offended  by  words;  I forget 
them ; by  actions,  I forget  them ; by  omissions, 
thoughts,  desires,  they  are  all  forgotten. 

Ah ! in  all  these  ways  I have  offended  Thee, 
and  Thou  wilt  forget,  even  as  I have  forgotten. 

I will  be  very  merciful,  so  that  Thou  mayst 
have  mercy  upon  me. 

LEAD  US  NOT  INTO  TEMPTATION,  BUT  DELIVER 
US  FROM  EVIL. 

Now,  as  I leave  Thine  altar,  I go  to  en- 
counter temptation. 

O Savior!  help  me,  keep  me,  and  warn  me 
of  my  danger ! 

Let  me  shun  all  occasions  of  evil,  and  if  by 
weakness,  or  allurements,  I am  led  into  paths 
of  sin,  if  I fall,  oh ! rescue  me  speedily,  that  I 
may  fall  upon  my  knees,  confessing  my  sin, 
and  imploring  pardon. 

Sin!  this  is  the  evil  from  which  I beseech 
Thee  to  deliver  me ; other  troubles  that  may 
happen,  I accept,  they  atv  sent  to  try  me  and 

4 Gold  Dust 


50 


GOLD  DUST. 


to  purify,  and  come  from  Thee;  but  sin,  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  it ! Oh ! when  in  the  hour 
of  temptation  I fall  away,  Lord!  hearken  to 
the  cry  that  I now  raise  to  Thee  in  all  sincer- 
ity; I will  it  not! — it  is  not  wilful!  I go  from 
Thy  Presence — but,  Jesus!  Thou  art  with 
me.  In  work,  in  prayer,  in  suffering,  let  all 
be  done  in  Thee ! 

XXXIII. 

“Mother,”  asked  the  child,  “since  nothing 
is  ever  lost,  where  do  all  our  thoughts  go?” 
“To  God,”  answered  the  mother  gravely, 
“Who  remembers  them  forever.” 

“Forever!”  said  the  child;  he  bent  his  head, 
and  drawing  closer  to  his  mother,  murmured : 
“I  am  frightened!” 

Which  of  us  have  not  felt  the  same? 

XXXIV. 

One  more  solemn  thought:  How  old  are 

you?  Nineteen.  Have  you  reckoned  the 
number  of  minutes,  that  have  elapsed  since 
your  birth?  The  number  is  startling:  nine 
millions,  three  hundred  and  thirty-three  thou- 
sand, two  hundred.  , . . Each  of  those  min- 
utes has  flown  to  God;  God  has  examined 
them,  and  weighed  them,  and  for  them  you 
must  give  account. 


GOLD  DUST. 


51 


Each  minute  bears  its  own  impress  (as  a coin 
bears  the  impress  of  the  Sovereign),  and  only 
those  marked  with  the  image  of  God,  will  avail 
you  for  eternity. 

Is  not  this  thought,  one  to  make  you 
tremble? 

“I  never  could  understand,"  writes  Guerin, 
"the  feeling  of  security  some  have,  that  their 
works  must  find  favor  with  God — as  if  our 
duties  were  confined  to  the  narrow  limits  of 
this  little  world.  To  be  a good  son,  states- 
man, or  brother,  is  not  all  that  is  required  of 
us; — God  demands  far  more  than  this,  from 
those  for  whom  He  has  destined  a crown  of 
glory,  hereafter." 

XXXV. 

One  great  characteristic  of  holiness,  is  never 
to  be  exacting — never  to  complain. 

Each  complaint  drags  us  down  a degree,  in 
our  upward  course. 

By  complaining,  I do  not  mean  the  simple 
imparting  of  our  troubles  to  others. 

Complaint  savors  always  of  a little  bad  tem- 
per, and  a slightly  vindictive  spirit. 

The  saints  were  never  exacting. 

Contented  with  their  lot,  they  never  desired 
anything  that  was  withheld  from  them. 


52 


GOLD  DUST. 


“I  have  asked,”  said  a holy  soul,  “for  some- 
thing I thought  needful;  they  have  forgotten 
to  answer  me ; or  perhaps  would  not  bestow  it. 
Why  need  I be  disquieted?  If  it  were  really 
necessary,  God  would  quickly  provide  means 
to  obtain  it.”  How  few  could  enter  into  this 
feeling,  and  yet  it  is  but  the  echo  of  Christ's 
own  words,  “Your  Father  in  Heaven  knoweth 
that  ye  have  need  of  all  these  things.” 

XXXVI. 

Joy  in  life  is  like  oil  in  a lamp.  When  the 
oil  gets  low,  the  wick  is  consumed,  emitting 
a black  vapor,  and  sending  forth  only  a lurid 
glow,  which  does  not  give  light. 

A life  without  joy,  passes  away  unprofitably. 
shedding  around  it  only  gloom  and  sorrow. 

If  every  morning  in  a simple  prayer — in 
those  fifteen  minutes'  meditation  (which  only 
seems  hard  when  we  do  not  practice  it)  we 
opened  our  hearts  to  God,  as  we  open  our  win- 
dows to  the  sun  and  air,  God  would  fill  it  with 
that  calm  sweet  joy,  which  elevates  the  soul, 
prevents  it  feeling  the  weight  of  troubles,  and 
makes  it  overflow  with  benevolence. 

But  joy  does  not  mean  levity,  witty  sayings, 
or  repartee  ...  it  is  habitual  serenity. 

Through  a clear  atmosphere,  we  can  always 


GOLD  DUST. 


53 


see  the  sky — it  seems  so  light  and  full  of  elas 
ticity. 

A serene  sky  is  always  pure  . . . clouds 
may  pass  across  it,  but  they  do  not  stain  it. 

So  is  it,  with  the  heart,  that  early  in  the 
morning  opens  to  receive  God's  Peace. 

XXXVII. 

•‘You  are  never  out  of  temper/'  was  once 
said  to  a woman  well  known  to  be  much  tried 
at  home — “is  it  that  you  do  not  feel  the  injus- 
tice, the  annoyances?’'  “I  feel  them  as  much 
as  you  do,”  she  replied,  “but  they  do  not  hurt 
me."  “You  have  then  some  special  balm?" 
“Yes,  for  the  vexations  caused  by  people,  I 
have  affection;  for  those  of  circumstances,  I 
have  prayer;  and  over  every  wound  that 
bleeds,  I murmur  the  words:  ‘Thy  Will  be 

done.’  ” 


XXXVIII. 

MY  DAILY  CROSS. 

If  I have  no  cross  to  bear  to-day,  I shall  not 
advance  heavenward. 

A cross  (that  is  anything  that  disturbs  our 
peace)  is  the  spur  which  stimulates,  and  with* 
out  which,  we  should  most  likely  remain  sta- 


54 


GOLD  DUST. 


tionary,  blinded  with  empty  vanities,  and 
sinking  deeper  into  sin. 

A cross  helps  us  onward,  in  spite  of  our 
apathy  and  resistance. 

To  lie  quietly  on  a bed  of  down,  may  seem  a 
very  sweet  existence,  but  pleasant  ease  and 
rest  are  not  the  lot  of  a Christian — if  he  would 
mount  higher  and  higher,  it  must  be  by  a 
rough  road. 

Alas ! for  those  who  have  no  daily  cross ! 

Alas!  for  those  who  repine  and  fret  against 
it! 


WHAT  WILL  BE  MY  CROSS  TO-DAY? 

Perhaps  that  person  with  whom  Providence 
has  placed  me  and  whom  I dislike — whose  look 
of  disdain  humiliates  me — whose  slowness 
worries  me — who  makes  me  jealous  by  being 
more  beloved,  more  successful  than  myself — 
whose  chatter  and  lightheartedness,  even  her 
very  attentions  to  myself,  annoy  me. 

Or  it  may  be  that  person,  that  I think  has 
quarreled  with  me,  and  my  imagination  makes 
me  fancy  myself  watched,  criticized,  turned 
into  ridicule. 

She  is  always  with  me — all  my  efforts  to  sep- 
arate are  frustrated — by  some  mysterious 
power,  she  is  always  present,  always  near. 


GOLD  DUST. 


55 


This  is  my  heaviest  cross ; the  rest  are  light 
in  comparison. 

Circumstances  change — temptations  dimin- 
ish— troubles  lessen;  but  those  people  who 
trouble  or  offend  us  are  an  ever-present  source 
of  irritation. 

HOW  TO  BEAR  THIS  DAILY  CROSS. 

Never  manifest  in  any  way,  the  ennui,  the 
dislike,  the  involuntary  shudder,  that  her 
presence  produces;  force  myself  to  render  her 
some  little  service — never  mind  if  she  never 
knows  it — it  is  between  God  and  myself. 
Try  and  say  a little  good  of  her  every  day,  of 
her  talents,  her  character,  her  tact,  for  there 
is  all  that  to  be  found  in  her. 

Pray  earnestly  for  her — even  asking  God  to 
help  me  to  love  her  and  to  spare  her  to  me. 

Dear  companion ! blessed  messenger  of  God’s 
mercy,  you  are  without  knowing  it,  the  means 
for  my  sanctification,  and  I will  not  be  un- 
grateful ! 

Yes!  though  the  exterior  be  rude  and  repel- 
lent, yet  to  you  I owe  it,  that  I am  kept  from 
greater  sin; — you,  against  whom  my  whole 
nature  rebels  . . . how  I ought  to  love  you ! 
XXXIX. 

Who  is  anxious  for  a beloved  one’s  eternal 
welfare? 


56 


GOLD  DUST. 


We  interest  ourselves  for  their  success,— 
their  prosperity;  we  ask  God  to  keep  them 
from  harm  and  misfortune;  we  try  to  start 
them  well  in  the  world — to  make  them  of  rep- 
utation— to  procure  them  pleasure. 

To  spare  them  trouble  we  sacrifice  our  own 
ease  and  enjoyment.  . . . 

Oh!  that  is  all  very  beautiful,  very  right; 
but  what  should  we  do  for  the  soul? 

Do  we  pray  to  God  that  this  soul  may  become 
humble,  pure,  devoted? 

Do  we  take  as  much  pains  to  procure  him 
the  little  devotional  book,  that  will  really  help 
him,  as  we  should  to  obtain  a transient  pleas- 
ure? 

Do  we  help  him  unseen  toward  that  act  of 
charity,  humiliation,  or  self-renunciation? 
Have  we  courage, not  to  spare  the  soul  the 
trial,  that  we  know  will  purify? 

Does  it  seem  too  hard  for  you? 

Ah ! then  you  do  not  know  what  real  love  is. 
Does  not  God  love  us?  Yet,  God  lets  us  suffer; 
even  sends  the  suffering. 

Love  is  given  us,  to  help  us  onward,  nearer 
to  God.  The  most  blessed,  is  that  which 
draws  us  nearest  to  Him;  and  in  proportion 
as  it  leads  to  God,  we  realize  its  blessedness. 

The  essence  of  true  love,  is  not  its  tender- 


GOLD  DUST. 


57 


ness,  but  its  strength,  power  of  endurance,  its 
purity,  its  self-renunciation. 

The  mistake  we  make,  is  when  we  seek  to 
be  beloved,  instead  of  loving.  What  makes 
us  cowardly,  is  the  fear  of  losing  that  love. 

Never  forget  this:  A selfish  heart  desires 
love  for  itself — a Christian  heart  delights  to 
love — without  return. 

XL. 

To  learn  never  to  waste  our  time  is  perhaps 
one  of  the  most  difficult  virtues  to  acquire. 

A well-spent  day  is  a source  of  pleasure. 
To  be  constantly  employed,  and  never  asking 
“What  shall  I do?”  is  the  secret  of  much 
goodness  and  happiness. 

Begin  then  with  promptitude,  act  decisively, 
persevere,  if  interrupted  be  amiable,  and  return 
to  the  work  unruffled,  finish  it  carefully — these 
will  be  the  signs  of  a virtuous  soul. 

XLI. 

Are  you  full  of  peace?  Pray?  Prayer  will 
preserve  it  to  you. 

Are  you  tempted?  Pray!  Prayer  will  sus- 
tain you. 

Have  you  fallen?  Pray!  Prayer  will  raise 
you. 


58 


GOLD  DUST. 


Are  you  discouraged?  Pray!  Prayer  will 
reassure  and  comfort  you. 

XLII. 

The  young  are  seldom  forbearing,  because 
they  so  little  understand  the  frailties  of  poor 
human  nature. 

Oh ! if  you  could  only  witness  the  terrible 
struggles  passing  in  the  heart  of  that  friend 
whose  vivacity  annoys  you,  whose  fickleness 
provokes  you,  whose  faults  sometimes  even 
make  you  blush.  . . . 

Oh ! if  you  saw  the  tears  that  are  shed  in 
secret ; the  vexation  felt  against  self  (perhaps 
on  your  account),  you  would  indeed  pity  them. 
Love  them ! make  allowances  for  them ! never 
let  them  feel  that  you  know  their  failings. 

To  make  any  one  believe  himself  good,  is  to 
help  him  almost  in  spite  of  self,  to  become  so. 

Forbearance  is  even  more  than  forgiveness ; 
it  is  excusing,  putting  always  the  best  con- 
struction upon  everything;  above  all,  never 
showing  that  one  proceeding  has  wounded  us, 
speaking  of  any  one  who  has  vexed  us  thus: — 
“she  did  not  think,  else  she  would  have  acted 
differently:  she  never  meant  to  pain  me,  she 
loves  me  too  much ; she  was  perhaps  unable 


GOLD  DUST. 


59 


to  do  otherwise,  and  yet  suffers  at  the  thought 
of  having  displeased  me.  ’ ’ 

For  a wounded  heart,  no  balm  is  so  effica- 
cious as  forbearance. 

To  forbear,  is  to  forget  every  night  the  little 
vexations  of  the  past  day;  to  say  every  morn- 
ing: “To-day  I shall  be  braver  and  calmer 
than  yesterday.  ” Forbearance  even  some- 
times leads  us  to  detect  in  ourselves  a little 
want  of  good  nature,  condescension,  and 
charity. 

To  forbear,  is  not  only  freely  to  forgive,  but 
to  meet  half  way,  with  extended  hand,  those 
who  timidly  ask  for  pardon. 

XLIII. 

My  friend,  do  you  know  why  the  work  you 
accomplish  fails  either  to  give  pleasure  to  your- 
self or  others? 

It  is  because  it  is  not  cheerfully  done,  and 
therefore  appears  discolored. 

A joyous  heart,  amid  our  work,  imparts  to 
duty  a brilliancy,  that  charms  the  eyes  of 
others,  while  it  prevents  those  feeling  wounded, 
who  cannot  perform  it  equally  well. 

Joy  with  us,  is  like  a lever,  by  which  we  lift 
the  weights,  that  without  its  help  would 
crush  us. 


60 


GOLD  DUST. 


A workman  once  said:  “If  I were  to  leave 
off  singing,  I should  be  quite  unequal  to  my 
business/' 

Then  sing  always;  let  your  heart  sing  as  in 
its  earliest  years. 

The  refrain  of  the  heart,  which  perhaps 
never  passes  the  lips,  but  which  echoes  in 
heaven,  is  this  sentence: — 

“I  love,  and  I am  beloved!" 

XLIV. 

What  regret  we  sometimes  feel  after  the 
death,  or  departure  of  a friend,  at  never  hav- 
ing shown  them  the  respect,  the  gratitude 
we  felt  toward  them,  and  how  from  the  depths 
of  our  heart  we  are  filled  with  tenderness  and 
affection  for  them! 

It  may  have  been,  that  at  times  we  could 
not  speak,  because  we  thought  too  much  of 
how  to  say  it. 

Another  time,  we  lost  the  opportunity  be- 
cause we  were  always  shirking  it.  Deep  devo- 
tion is  sometimes  a little  erratic:  always  afraid 
of  doing  too  little,  doing  it  badly  or  inoppor- 
tunely. Oftener  still  the  tokens  of  affection 
are  checked,  because  we  think  we  could  show 
it  in  some  better  way;  we  put  off  till  brighter 
days,  the  dreams  we  cherished,  the  sweet 


GOLD  DUST* 


61 


yearning  to  open  the  heart  to  the  loved  ones, 
and  let  them  see  for  once,  what  a large  place 
they  fill  there. 

Alas!  the  days  fly  past,  suddenly  comes 
death,  or,  sadder  still,  separation  without  hope 
of  return,  leaving  the  bitter  thought:  “Others 
will  show  them  better  than  I have  done,  how 
dear,  how  valued  they  are. ” Ah!  what  we 
can  be  loving  to-day,  never  let  us  say:  “I  will 
love  to-morrow when  we  have  the  opportu- 
nity of  being  grateful,  never  put  off,  for  one 
hour,  the  proof  of  our  gratitude ! 

CONCLUSION. 

LACORDAIRE,  in  preparing  for  a retreat 
in  the  country,  said  he  only  required  for  his 
realization  of  a dream  of  happiness  and  soli- 
tude, three  things: — (i)  God;  (2)  a friend;  (3) 
books. 

God! — We  never  fail  to  find  Him,  when  we 
are  pure,  holy,  and  fulfilling  hourly  our  duty. 

A Friend! — Responds  always  to  the  heart’s 
call,  if  only  that  heart  be  loving  and  devoted. 

Books !— Oh ! if  only  this  little  book  of  Gold 
Dust,  might  be  allowed  to  form  one  of  the 
numbers  of  those  that  are  carried  away,  far 
from  the  world’s  turmoil,  and  read  in  order  to 
gain  a little  help  and  peace ! 

It  will  take  up  so  little  room! 


N. 


GOLD  DUST. 


SECOND  PART. 

I. 

THE  FRIENDLY  WHISPER. 

Under  this  title  we  commence  a series  of 
short  counsels  for  each  day  of  the  week,  which 
will  be  as  a friendly  whisper,  the  voice  of  a 
Guardian  Angel,  inspiring,  as  occasion  pre- 
sents itself,  some  good  action,  some  self-denial, 
some  little  sacrifice. 

We  recommend  that  it  should  be  placed  on 
the  writing  table,  in  the  book  we  most  fre- 
quently turn  to,  or  wherever  it  is  most  likely 
to  meet  the  eye.  What  is  so  often  the  one 
thing  wanting  to  some  devout  person,  de- 
voted to  doing  good?  Simply  to  be  reminded 
of  it. 

Monday . ! 

CHARITY. 

Be  good-natured,  benevolent,  keep  up  a 
cheerful  expression  of  countenance,  even  when 
alone. 


63 


64 


GOLD  DUST. 


That  clumsiness,  those  brusque,  rude  man- 
ners, let  them  pass  without  notice. 

When  wishes  contrary  to  your  own  prevail, 
yield  without  ill-humor,  or  even  showing  your 
effort:  you  will  give  pleasure,  and  thus  be 
pleased  yourself. 

Try  to  please,  to  console,  to  amuse,  to  be- 
stow, to  thank,  to  help.  That  is  all  in  itself  so 
good! 

Try  and  do  some  good  to  the  souls  of  others! 
An  earnest  word,  some  encouragement,  a 
prayer  softly  breathed. 

Overcome  your  dislike  and  aversion  to  cer- 
tain persons,  do  not  shun  them,  on  the  contrary 
go  and  meet  them.  God  goes  before  you. 

Be  courteous  even  to  the  troublesome  indi- 
vidual who  is  always  in  your  way.  God  sends 
him  to  you. 

Forgive  at  once.  Do  you  believe  harm  was 
intended?  If  so,  is  it  not  the  greater  merit? 

Do  not  refuse  your  alms,  only  let  your  mo- 
tives be  pure,  and  in  giving,  give  as  to  God. 

Do  not  judge  the  guilty  harshly;  pity,  and 
pray  for  them. 

Why  imagine  evil  intentions  against  your- 
self? cannot  you  see  how  the  thought  troubles 
and  disquiets  you? 

Check  the  ironical  smile  hovering  about 


GOLD  DUST. 


65 


your  lips,  you  will  grieve  the  object  of  it. 
Why  cause  any  one  pain? 

Lend  yourself  to  all.  God  Will  not  suffer 
you  to  be  taken  advantage  of  if  you  are 
prompted  by  the  spirit  of  Charity. 

Tuesday. 

THE  DIVINE  PRESENCE. 

Never  separate  yourself  from  God.  How 
sweet  it  is  to  live  always  near  those  who 
love  us! 

You  cannot  see  God,  but  He  is  there,  just 
as  if  some  friend  were  separated  from  you  by 
a curtain,  which  does  not  prevent  his  seeing 
you,  and  which  at  any  moment  may  unfold 
and  disclose  him  to  your  view. 

When  the  soul  is  unstained  by  sin,  and  if  we 
remain  still  and  recollected,  we  can  perceive 
God’s  presence  in  the  heart,  just  as  we  see  day- 
light penetrating  a room.  We  may  not  be 
always  conscious  of  this  Presence,  but  imper- 
ceptibly it  influences  all  our  actions.  Oh!  how- 
ever heavy  may  be  the  burden  you  have  to 
bear,  does  it  not  as  once  become  light,  beneath 
the  gaze  of  that  Father’s  Eye? 

The  thought  of  God  is  never  wearisome; 
why  not  always  cherish  it?  Go  on  without 
trembling,  beneath  the  Eye  of  God,  never  fear 

5 Gold  Dost 


66 


GOLD  DUST. 


to  smile,  love,  hope,  and  enjoy  all  that  makes 
life  sweet. 

God  rejoices  in  our  pleasures  as  a mother  in 
the  joys  of  her  child. 

What  is  contrary  to  God's  Will,  grieves  Him, 
and  does  you  harm,  that  alone  you  need  fear; 
the  thought  that  will  stain  your  soul ; the  wish 
that  troubles  your  heart;  that  unwholesome 
action,  that  will  weaken  your  intellect,  and 
destroy  your  peace. 

Never  long  for  what  God  sees  fit  to  deny. 

God,  beside  you,  will  repair  your  blunders, 
provide  means,  whereby  you  may  atone  for 
that  sinful  action,  by  one  more  virtuous,  wipe 
away  the  tears  caused  by  some  unmerited 
reproof,  or  unkind  word. 

You  have  only  to  close  your  eyes  for  a 
moment,  examine  yourself,  and  softly  murmur, 
“Lord,  help  me!” 

Can  you  not  hear  God's  Voice  speaking  to 
you?  What!  when  He  says:  Bear  this,  I am 
here  to  aid  thee;  you  will  refuse? 

He  says:  Continue  another  half  hour  the 

work  that  wearies  thee;  and  you  would  stop? 

He  says:  Do  not  that;  and  you  do  it? 

He  says:  Let  us  tread  together  the  path  of 

obedience;  and  you  answer:  No? 


GOLD  DUST. 


67 


Wednesday . 

SELF-RENUNCIATION. 

Do  not  be  afraid  of  that  word  Renunciation. 
To  you,  perhaps,  it  only  means,  weariness, 
restraint,  ennui. 

But  it  means  also,  love,  perfection,  sanctifi- 
cation. 

Who  cannot  renounce,  cannot  love. 

Who  cannot  renounce,  cannot  become  perfect. 

Who  cannot  renounce,  cannot  be  made  holy. 

Self-renunciation,  means  devotion  to  our 
duty,  going  on  with  it  in  spite  of  difficulties, 
disgust,  ennui,  want  of  success. 

Self-renunciation, is  self-sacrifice  under  what- 
ever form  it  presents  itself,  prayer,  labor, 
love  ...  all  that  would  be  an  obstacle,  not 
merely  to  its  accomplishment,  but  its  perfec- 
tion. > 

Self-renunciation,  is  to  root  out  all  that 
encumbers  the  heart,  all  that  impedes  the  free 
action  of  the  Holy  Spirit  within:  longings  after 
an  imaginary  perfection  or  well-being ; unreal 
sentiments  that  trouble  us  in  prayer,  in  work, 
in  slumber,  that  fascinate  us,  but  the  result  of 
which  is  to  destroy  all  real  application. 

Self-renunciation,  is  to  resist  all  the  allure- 
ments of  the  senses,  that  would  only  give  pleas- 
ure to  self,  and  satisfy  the  conscience,  by  whis- 


68 


GOLD  DUST. 


pering:  “it  is  no  sin;”  Self-renunciation,  in 
short,  is  destroying,  even  at  the  risk  of  much 
heartrendering,  all  in  our  heart,  mind,  imag 
ination,  that  could  be  displeasing  to  God. 

Renunciation  is  not  one  single  action,  that 
when  once  accomplished,  we  experience  relief; 
it  means  a constant  sacrifice,  restraint,  resist- 
ing, rending,  each  hour,  each  moment  during 
our  whole  life. 

But  is  not  this  a worry,  a continual  torment? 
No,  not  if  the  moving  spring  be  love,  or  godly 
fear.  . . . 

Do  you  consider  it  a trouble  when  you  make 
yourself  less  comfortable,  to  make  room  for  a 
friend  who  visits  you? 

Well!  there  are  times  when  God  would  make 
you  sensible  of  His  Presence.  He  is  with  you, 
and  to  retain  Him  close,  who  is  all  Purity,  will 
you  not  be  more  modest  in  you  behavior? 

If  you  would  receive  Him  into  your  heart  at 
Holy  Communion,  will  you  not  make  room  for 
Him,  by  rooting  out  that  affection  He  has 
pointed  out  to  you  as  dangerous,  that  interest, 
that  desire,  that  worldly  sensual  attachment? 

Oh ! if  you  only  really  loved. 

Would  you  call  it  torture,  or  constraint,  the 
energy  with  which  you  shatter  some  poisoned 
cup,  you  were  almost  enticed  to  drink? 


GOLD  DUST. 


69 


Well!  when  encountering  the  attractive 
enjoyment,  the  material  delight,  which  might 
lead  you  astray,  or  the  siren  voice  which  would 
allure  you  from  your  duty  for  a moment — then 
when  conscience  whispers:  “ Beware,”  . . . 
would  you  be  cowardly? 

Alas,  it  is  slowly  and  surely  that  the  stream 
carries  on  to  destruction  the  blossom  that  has 
fallen  into  its  current.  It  is  little  by  little  that 
pleasure  leads  on  to  sin  the  heart  that  lets  itself 
be  lulled  by  its  charms. 

Thursday . 

SUBMISSION. 

As  soon  as  you  awake  in  the  morning,  try 
and  realize  God  stretching  forth  His  Hand 
toward  you,  and  saying:  Dost  thou  really 

desire  that  I should  watch  over  thee  this  day? 
and  you,  lift  up  your  hands  toward  this  kind 
Father,  and  say  to  Him:  “Yes,  yes,  lead  me, 

guide  me,  love  me,  I will  be  very  submissive !” 

Beneath  God’s  protecting  Hand,  is  it  pos- 
sible that  you  can  be  sorrowful,  fearful, 
unhappy? 

No;  God  will  allow  no  suffering,  no  trial 
above  what  you  are  able  to  bear. 

Then  pass  through  the  day,  quietly  and 
calmly,  even  as  when  a little  child,  you  had 
your  mother  always  beside  you. 


70 


GOLD  DUST. 


You  need  only  be  careful  about  one  thing, 
never  to  displease  God,  and  you  will  see  how 
lovingly  God  will  direct  all  that  concerns  you : 
material  interests,  sympathies,  worldly  cares, 
— you  will  be  astonished  at  the  sudden  enlight- 
enment that  will  come  to  you,  and  the  wondr- 
ous peace  that  will  result  from  your  labor  and 
your  toil. 

Then,  welcome  trial,  sickness,  ennui,  priva- 
tions, injustice  ...  all  of  it  can  only  come, 
directed  by  God's  Hand,  and  will  wound  the 
soul  only  in  order  to  cleanse  some  spot  within. 

Would  your  mother  have  given  you  a bitter 
dose,  merely  for  the  sake  of  causing  you  suffer- 
ing? 

If  your  duty  is  hard,  owing  either  to  its  diffi- 
culty or  the  distaste  you  feel  toward  it,  lift 
your  heart  to  God  and  say:  “Lord,  help  me,” 
. . . then  go  on  with  it,  even  though  you  seem 
to  do  it  imperfectly. 

Should  one  of  those  moments  of  vague  mis- 
givings that  leave  the  soul  as  it  were  in  utter 
darkness,  come  to  overwhelm  you,  call  upon 
God,  as  a child  in  terror  cries  out  to  its  mother. 

If  you  have  sinned,  oh!  even  then  be  not 
afraid  of  the  merciful  God,  but  with  eyes  full 
of  tears,  say  to  Him:  “Pardon  me"  . . . and 

add  softly,  “chastise  me  soon,  O Lord!" 


GOLD  DUST. 


71 


Yes,  yes,  dear  one,  be  always  at  peace,  going 
on  quietly  with  your  daily  duties  . . . more 
than  that,  be  always  joyous. 

And  why  not? 

You  who  have  no  longer  a mother  to  love 
you,  and  yet  crave  for  love,  God  will  be  as  a 
mother:  You  who  have  no  brother  to  help  you, 
and  have  so  much  need  of  support,  God  will  be 
your  brother:  You  who  have  no  friends  to 

comfort  you,  and  stand  so  much  in  need  of  con- 
solation, God  will  be  your  friend. 

Preserve  always  the  childlike  simplicity, 
which  goes  direct  to  God,  and  speak  to  Him, 
as  you  would  speak  to  your  mother. 

Keep  that  open  confidence  that  tells  Him 
your  projects,  troubles,  joys,  as  you  tell  them 
to  a brother. 

Cherish  those  loving  words  that  speak  of  all 
the  happiness  you  feel,  living  in  dependence 
upon  Him,  and  trusting  in  His  Love,  just  as 
you  would  tell  it  to  the  friend  of  your  child- 
hood. 

Keep  the  generous  heart  of  childhood  which 
gives  all  you  have  to  God.  Let  Him  freely 
take  whatever  He  pleases,  all  within  and 
around  you.  Will  only  what  He  wills,  desiring 
only  what  is  in  accordance  with  His  Will,  and 
finding  nothing  impossible  that  He  commands. 


72 


GOLD  DUST. 


Do  you  not  feel  something  soothing  and  con- 
soling in  these  thoughts?  The  longer  you  live, 
the  better  you  will  understand  that  true  happi- 
ness is  only  to  be  found  in  a life  devoted  to 
God,  and  given  up  entirely  to  His  Guidance. 

No!  no!  none  can  harm  you,  unless  it  be 
God’s  Will,  and  if  He  allows  it,  be  patient  and 
humble;  weep  if  your  heart  is  sore,  but  love 
always,  and  wait  . . . the  trial  will  pass  away, 
but  God  will  remain  yours  forever. 

Jriday . 

PRAYER. 

Oh!  if  you  only  knew  what  it  is  to  pray!  oh! 
if  God  would  only  give  you  the  grace  to  love 
prayer.  What  peace  to  your  soul,  what  love  in 
your  heart ! 

What  joy  would  shine  in  your  countenance, 
even  though  the  tears  streamed  from  your 
eyes! 

Prayer,  as  the  first  cry  escapes  the  lips,  indi- 
cates to  God  that  some  one  would  speak  to 
Him,  and  God,  so  good  and  gracious,  is  ever 
ready  to  listen  (with  all  reverence  we  say  it), 
with  the  prompt  attention  of  a faithful  servant. 
He  manifests  Himself  to  the  soul,  with  inef- 
fable love,  and  says  to  it:  “Behold  Me,  thou 

hast  called  Me  what  dost  thou  desire  of  Me?” 


GOLD  DUST. 


73 


To  pray,  is  to  remain,  so  long  as  our  prayer 
lasts,  in  the  Presence  of  God,  with  the  cer- 
tainty, that  we  can  never  weary  Him,  no  mat- 
ter what  may  be  the  subject  of  our  prayer,  or 
at  those  times  when  we  are  speechless,  and  as 
in  the  case  of  the  good  peasant,  quoted  by  the 
Cure  d’Ars,  we  are  content  to  place  ourselves 
before  God,  with  only  the  recollection  of  His 
Presence. 

To  pray,  is  to  act  toward  God,  as  the  child 
does  to  its  mother,  the  poor  man  toward  the 
rich,  eager  to  do  him  good,  the  friend  toward 
his  friend,  who  longs  to  show  him  affection. 

Prayer  is  the  key  to  all  celestial  treasures,  by 
it  we  penetrate  into  the  midst  of  all  the  joy, 
strength,  mercy,  and  goodness  Divine,  . . . 
we  receive  our  well-being  from  all  around  us, 
as  the  sponge  plunged  into  the  ocean  imbibes 
without  an  effort  the  water  that  surrounds  it 
. . . this  joy,  strength,  mercy  and  goodness, 
become  our  own. 

Oh,  yes!  if  you  knew  how  to  pray,  and  loved 
prayer,  how  good,  useful,  fruitful,  and  meritor- 
ious, would  be  your  life. 

Nothing  so  elevates  the  soul  as  prayer. 

God,  so  condescending  to  the  soul,  raises  it 
with  Him  to  the  regions  of  light  and  love,  and 
then  the  prayer  finished,  the  soul  returns  to  its 


74 


GOLD  DUST. 


daily  duties,  with  a more  enlightened  mind,  a 
more  earnest  will.  It  is  filled  with  radiance 
divine,  and  sheds  of  its  abundance  upon  all 
who  approach. 

If  you  would  succeed  in  your  study,  with  the 
success  that  sanctifies,  pray,  before  commenc- 
ing; 

If  you  would  succeed  in  your  intercourse 
with  others,  pray  before  becoming  intimate. 

Nothing  so  smoothes  and  sweetens  life  as 
Prayer. 

There  is  the  solitary  prayer,  when  the  soul 
isolated  from  all  creatures  is  alone  with  God 
and  feels  thus  toward  Him:  “God  and  I;” 
God  to  love,  I to  adore,  praise,  glorify,  thank. 

God  to  bestow,  I to  humbly  receive,  to 
renounce,  ask,  hope,  submit!  . . . 

Ah ! who  can  tell  all  that  passes  between  the 
soul,  and  its  God ! 

There  is  the  united  prayer  of  two  friends, 
bound  together  by  a holy  friendship,  their 
desires  and  thoughts  are  one,  and  as  one  they 
present  themselves  before  God,  crying:  “Have 
mercy  upon  me!” 

There  is  the  prayer  of  two  hearts  separated 
by  distance,  made  at  the  same  hour  in  the  same 
words.  Soothing  prayer,  that  each  day  reunites 
those  two  sad  hearts  torn  by  the  agony  of  part- 


GOLD  DUST. 


75 


ing,  and  who  in  God's  Presence,  strengthened 
with  the  same  Holy  Spirit,  recover  courage  to 
tread  the  road  to  heaven,  each  in  its  appointed 
sphere. 

Then  there  is  Public  Prayer,  that  which  has 
the  special  promise  of  God's  Presence;  prayer 
so  comforting  to  the  feeble,  guilty  soul,  who 
can  cry  in  very  truth,  “My  prayer  ascends  to 
God,  supported  by  the  prayers  of  others.  '* 

Oh!  if  you  knew  how  to  pray,  and  loved 
prayer,  how  happy  and  fruitful  would  be  your 
life? 

Saturday . 

EARNESTNESS. 

You  love  God,  do  you  not,  dear  one,  whom 
God  surrounds  with  so  much  affection? 

Yes!  yes!  I love  Him! 

And  how  do  you  prove  to  Him  your  love? 

I keep  myself  pure  and  innocent,  so  that  His 
Eye  falling  upon  me,  may  never  see  anything 
that  displeases  Him.  I keep  myself  calm  and 
quiet,  and  force  myself  to  smile  that  He  may 
see  I am  contented. 

That  is  right,  but  that  is  not  enough. 

I think  of  tenof  how  much  I owe  Him,  and  ap- 
ply myself  diligently  to  the  work  He  has  given 
me  to  do ; I bear  patiently  with  those  I dislike, 


76 


GOLD  DUST. 


with  troubles  that  irritate  me;  when  I am 
weak  I call  upon  Him,  when  timid  I draw  near 
to  Him,  when  sinful  I implore  pardon  and 
strive  to  do  my  duty  more  faithfully.  That  is 
right,  but  that  is  not  enough. 

I lend  myself  to  the  importunities  of  others. 
I am  as  a slave  to  those  who  need  me,  and  take 
care  never  to  judge  any  one  harshly. 

That  is  right,  but  still  it  is  not  enough. 

Ah ! then  what  more  can  I do,  good  angel, 
thus  addressing  me,  what  can  I do  to  show  my 
love  to  God? 

Devote  thyself  to  doing  good  to  the  souls  of 
others: 

Oh!  if  you  knew  how  it  pleases  God  to  see 
you  laboring  for  them!  It  is  like  the  joy  of  a 
mother,  every  time  she  sees  some  one  benefit- 
ing her  child. 

How  thankful  she  is  to  those  who  nursed  it 
in  sickness,  spared  it  pain,  showed  it  some 
token  of  affection,  a counsel,  a warning,  that 
gave  it  pleasure,  by  a kind  word,  a plaything, 
a smile. 

All  this  you  may  do  in  that  circle,  more  or 
less  extended,  in  which  you  live. 

Leave  to  God’s  Minister,  if  you  will,  the 
work  of  converting  souls,  and  limit  your  efforts 


GOLD  DUST. 


77 


to  doing  good  by  bringing  yourself  into  com- 
munion with  them. 

To  do  so,  means  sweetly,  unconsciously, 
softly  speak  to  them  of  God,  carry  them  to 
God,  lead  them  to  God. 

This  may  be  done  by  gently,  tenderly — by 
inference  as  it  were — speaking  to  them  of 
God,  thus  leading  them  toward  Him,  bringing 
them  into  contact  with  Him. 

Hearts  are  drawn  together  by  talking  of 
their  kindred  pursuits,  souls  by  speaking  of 
Heavenly  things. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  this  purpose,  to  pro- 
nounce the  name  of  God,  it  will  suffice  that 
the  words  shall  lift  the  soul  beyond  this  mate- 
rial world,  and  its  sensual  enjoyments,  and 
raise  them  upward  to  that  supernatural  atmo- 
sphere necessary  to  the  real  life. 

Speak  of  the  happiness  of  devotion,  the 
charm  of  purity,  the  blessing  of  the  few  min- 
utes’ meditation  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  the  peace 
procured  by  entire  resignation  to  Providence, 
and  the  sweetness  of  a life  spent  beneath 
God’s  Fatherly  Eye,  the  comfort  the  thought 
of  Heaven  brings  in  the  midst  of  trouble,  the 
hope  of  the  meeting  again  above,  the  certainty 
of  eternal  happiness.  This  is  doing  good  to 


78 


GOLD  DUST. 


others,  drawing  them  nearer  to  God,  and 
teaching  them  more  and  more  of  holiness. 

Limit  your  efforts  to  this;  later  on  I will  tell 
you  what  more  you  may  do. 

Sunday . 

SYMPATHY. 

Welcome  with  joy  each  week,  the  day  that 
God  has  called  His  day.  To  each  day  of  the 
week  God  has  given  his  special  mission,  its 
share  of  pleasure  and  of  pain,  necessary  to 
purify  and  fortify,  and  prepare  us  for  eternity. 

But  Sunday  is  a day  of  Love. 

On  Saturday  we  lay  aside  our  garments 
faded  and  stained  by  toil,  and  on  Sunday  we 
array  ourselves  in  garments,  not  only  fresher, 
but  more  choice  and  graceful. 

Why  not  prepare  the  heart,  even  as  we  do  the 
body? 

During  the  week,  has  not  the  heart  been 
wearied  with  petty  strife  and  discontent,  in- 
terests marred,  bitter  words? 

Then  why  not  shake  off  all  this,  that  only 
chills  affection? — on  the  Saturday  let  us  for- 
give freely,  press  the  hand  warmly,  embrace 
each  other,  and  then  peace  being  restored 
within,  we  await  the  morrow’s  awakening. 

Sunday  is  God’s  day  of  truce  for  all.  That 


GOLD  DUST. 


79 


day  laying  aside  all  revenge  and  ill  feeling, 
we  must  be  filled  with  forbearance,  indul- 
gence, and  amiability. 

Oh!  how  good  for  us  to  feel  obliged  to 
be  reconciled,  and  each  Sunday  renews  the 
obligation. 

Let  us  leave  no  time  for  coldness  and  in- 
difference to  grow  upon  us  ...  it  only  en- 
genders hatred,  and  that  once  established  in 
the  heart,  oh!  how  hard  is  it  to  cast  out 
again. 

It  is  like  a hideous  cancer,  whose  ravages 
no  remedies  can  stay. 

It  is  as  the  venomous  plant,  that  the  gar- 
dener can  never  entirely  eradicate..  Only  by 
a miracle  can  hatred  be  destroyed.  At  once 
then  let  us  place  a barrier  in  our  hearts, 
against  the  approach  of  coolness,  or  indiffer- 
ence, and  each  Saturday  night  the  head  of  the 
family  shall  thus  address  us:  “Children,  to- 
night we  forgive,  to-night  we  forget,  and  to- 
morrow begin  life  afresh  in  love  one  toward 
another.0 

II. 

When  I have  sinned,  wrote  a pious  soul,  I 
feel  chastisement  will  fail  upon  me,  and  as  if 
I could  hide  myself  from  God's  Eye.  I 
shrink  into  myself,  and  then  I pray,  I pray, 


GOLD  DUST. 


and  the  chastisement  not  being  sent,  I again 
expand. 

Chastisement  is  like  a stone  threatening  to 
crush  me:  Prayer  is  the  hand  that  withholds 
it,  while  I make  atonement. 

Oh!  how  can  those  live  peacefully,  who 
never  pray? 

III. 

OUR  DEAD. 

They  are  not  all  there — our  dead — buried 
in  the  churchyard,  beneath  the  grave,  o’er- 
shadowed  by  a cross,  and  round  which  the 
roses  bloom. 

There  are  others  which  nothing  can  recall; 
they  are  things  which  belong  to  the  heart 
alone,  and  there,  alas!  have  found  a tomb. 

Peace  surrounds  me  to-day;  and  here  in  my 
lone  chamber  I will  invoke  them,  my  much 
loved  dead.  Come! 

The  first  that  present  themselves,  are  the 
sweet  years  of  childhood,  so  fresh,  so  guile- 
less, so  happy. 

They  were  made  up  of  loving  caresses,  boun- 
tiful rewards,  and  fearless  confidence;  the 
words,  pain,  danger,  care,  were  unknown; 
they  brought  me  simple  pleasures,  happy  days 


GOLD  DUST. 


81 


without  a thought  for  the  morrow,  and  only 
required  from  me  a little  obedience. 

Alas!  they  are  dead.  . . and  what  number- 
less things  they  have  carried  with  them! 
What  a void  they  have  left! 

Candor,  lightheartedness,  simplicity,  no 
longer  find  a place  within! 

Family  ties,  so  true,  so  wide,  so  light,  have 
all  vanished ! 

The  homely  hearth,  the  simple  reward 
earned  by  the  day’s  industry,  maternal 
chidings,  forgiveness  so  ingeniously  sought, 
so  freely  given,  promises  of  amendment,  so 
sincere,  so  joyously  received.  . . Is  this  all 
gone  forever,  can  I never  recall  them? 

The  vision  that  follows,  is  that  of  my  early 
piety,  simple  and  full  of  faith,  which  was  as 
some  good  angel  o’ershadowing  me  with  its 
snowy  wings,  and  showing  me  God  every- 
where, in  all,  and  with  all. 

The  good  God,  Who  each  day  provides  my 
daily  bread ; 

The  God,  Who  spared  my  mother  in  sick- 
ness, and  relieved  her  when  she  suffered; 
God,  Who  shielded  me  from  harm,  when  I 
did  right ; 

The  God,  Who  sees  all,  knows  all,  and  is 
Omnipotent,  Whom  I loved  with  all  my  heart. 

6 Gold  Dust 


82 


GOLD  DUST, 


Alas!  faithful,  simple  piety,  thou  art  dead; 
in  innocence  alone  couldst  thou  live ! 

Next  comes  the  love  of  my  earliest  years. 
Love  in  childhood,  love  in  youth,  so  full  of 
true,  simple  joy,  that  initiated  me  in  the  sweet 
pleasure  of  devotion,  that  taught  me  self- 
denial  in  order  to  give  pleasure,  that  de- 
stroyed all  egotism,  by  showing  me  the  happi- 
ness of  living  for  others. 

Love  of  my  childhood,  love  of  my  youth, 
so  pure,  so  holy,  on  which  I always  reckoned 
when  they  spoke  to  me  of  trouble,  loneliness, 
depression  . . . Thou  also  art  dead. 

An  involuntary  coolness,  an  unfounded  sus- 
picion, never  cleared,  an  ill-natured  story.  . . 
all  these  have  destroyed  that  child  of  Heaven. 
I knew  it  was  tender,  and  I cherished  it,  but 
I could  not  believe  it  to  be  so  frail. 

I could  make  a long  list  of  all  the  dead,  en- 
shrined in  my  heart!  O,  you  who  are  still 
young,  upon  whom  God  has  lavished  all  the 
gifts  that  are  lost  to  me,  candor,  simplicity, 
innocence,  love,  devotion  . . . guard,  oh, 
guard  these  treasures  and  that  they  may  never 
die,  place  them  beneath  the  shelter  of  Prayer. 


Parable  of  the  lost  piece  of  money. 

Gold  Dust. 


4 


GOLD  DUST. 


83 


THE  SPIRITUAL  LIFE. 

IV. 

What  a sweet  life  is  that!  The  maintain- 
ing, strengthening  it,  has  a softening  influ- 
ence, and  it  is  a labor  that  never  wearies, 
never  deceives,  but  gives  each  day  fresh  cause 
for  joy. 

In  the  language  of  devotion,  it  is  called  the 
interior  life,  and  it  is  our  purpose  to  point  out 
minutely,  its  nature,  excellence,  means,  and 
hindrances. 

Let  no  one  think  the  interior  life  is  incom- 
patible with  the  life  domestic  and  social,  which 
is  often  so  engrossing;  just'  as  the  action  of 
the  heart  maintained  by  the  constant  flow  of 
the  blood,  in  no  way  affects  the  outward  move- 
ments, so  is  it  with  the  life  of  the  soul,  which 
consists  chiefly  in.  the  action  of  God's  Holy 
Spirit  within,  that  never  hinders  our  social 
duties,  but  on  the  contrary  is  a help  toward 
fulfilling  them  more  calmly,  more  perfectly. 

NATURE  OF  THE  INTERIOR  LIFE. 

The  interior  life  is  an  abiding  sense  of 
God’s  Presence,  a constant  union  with  Him. 

We  learn  to  look  upon  the  heart  as  the  tem- 
ple where  God  dwells,  sometimes  glorious  as 
above,  sometimes  hidden  as  in  the  Holy 


84 


GOLD  DUST. 


Eucharist,  and  we  act,  think,  speak,  and  ful- 
fil all  our  duties,  as  in  His  Presence. 

Its  aim  is  to  shun  sin,  and  cultivate  a de- 
tachment from  all  earthly  things,  by  a spirit 
of  poverty;  sensual  pleasures,  by  purity  and 
mortification;  pride,  by  humility;  dissipation, 
by  recollection. 

As  a rule,  people  are  prejudiced  against  an 
interior  life.  Some  are  afraid  of  it,  and  look 
upon  it  as  a life  of  bondage,  sacrifice,  and  re- 
straint; others  despise  it,  as  nothing  but  a 
multiplicity  of  trifling  rules,  tending  only  to 
narrow-mindedness  and  uselessness,  and  fit 
only  for  weak  minds.  In  consequence,  they 
are  on  their  guard  against  it,  and  avoid  the 
books  that  treat  of  it. 

They  would  serve  God  no  doubt,  but  they 
will  not  subject  themselves  to  the  entire  guid- 
ance of  His  Spirit;  in  short,  it  is  far  easier  to 
bring  a soul  from  a state  of  sin  to  that  of 
grace,  than  it  is  to  lead  a busy,  active,  zealous 
person  to  the  hidden  contemplative  life  of  the 
soul. 

EXCELLENCE  OF  THE  INTERIOR  LIFE. 

God  dwelling  within  us,  the  life  of  Christ 
Himself,  when  on  earth,  living  always  in  His 
Father’s  Presence. 

It  is  the  life  of  which  S.  Paul  speaks  when 


GOLD  DUST. 


85 


he  says,  “Nevertheless  I live;  yet  not  I,  but 
Christ  liveth  in  me.M 

All  saints  must  lead  this  life,  and  their  de- 
gree of  holiness  is  in  proportion  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  their  union  with  God. 

Christ  animates  their  souls,  even  as  the  soul 
animates  the  body. 

They  own  Christ  as  Master,  Counselor,  and 
Guide,  and  nothing  is  done  without  submit- 
ting it  to  Him,  and  imploring  His  aid  and 
approval. 

Christ  is  their  strength,  their  refuge,  their 
defender. 

They  live  in  constant  dependence  upon 
Him,  as  their  Father,  Protector,  and  all-power- 
ful King. 

They  are  drawn  to  Him,  as  the  child  is 
drawn  by  love,  the  poor  by  need. 

They  let  themselves  be  guided  by  Him  as 
the  blind  let  themselves  be  led  by  the  child  in 
whom  they  confide ; they  bear  all  suffering 
that  comes  from  Him,  as  the  sick,  in  order  to 
be  healed,  bear  suffering  at  the  hands  of  a 
physician ; and  they  lean  on  Him,  as  the  child 
leans  on  its  mother’s  breast. 

It  lifts  them  above  the  troubles  and  miseries 
of  life;  the  whole  world  may  seem  a prey  to 
calamities;  themselves,  deprived  of  their 


86 


GOLD  DUST. 


goods  through  injustice  or  accident,  they  lose 
their  relations  through  death,  their  friends 
through  treachery  or  forgetfulness,  their 
reputation  and  honor  from  slander,  a serious 
illness  deprives  them  of  health,  their  happi- 
ness is  destroyed  by  hardness  and  tempta- 
tions . . . Ah ! no  doubt,  they  will  have  these 
trials,  no  doubt  they  must  shed  bitter  tears, 
but  still  God’s  peace  will  remain  to  them,  the 
peace  that  passe th  all  understanding,  they 
will  realize  God  has  ordered  it,  guided  it  with 
His  Hand  Divine,  and  they  will  be  able  to 
exclaim,  with  joy,  “Thou  art  left  to  us,  and 
Thou  art  all-sufficient!” 

ACTS  OF  THE  INTERIOR  LIFE. 

1.  See  God,  that  is  to  say,  be  always  realizing 
His  presence,  feeling  Him  near,  as  the  friend, 
from  Whom  we  would  never  be  separated,  in 
work,  in  prayer,  in  recreation,  in  repose. 
God  is  not  importunate,  He  never  wearies,  He 
is  so  gracious,  and  merciful,  His  Hand  directs 
everything,  and  He  will  not  “suffer  us  to  be 
tempted  above  that  we  are  able.” 

2.  Listen  to  God,  be  attentive  to  His  coun- 
sels, His  warnings;  we  hear  His  Voice,  in 
those  Gospel  words  that  recur  to  our  minds, 
in  the  good  thoughts  that  suddenly  dawn  on 


GOLD  DUST. 


87 


us,  the  devout  words  that  meet  us  in  some 
book,  on  a sheet  of  paper,  or  falling  from  the 
lips  of  a preacher,  a friend,  or  even  a stranger. 

3.  Speak  to  God,  hold  converse  with  Him, 
more  with  the  heart  than  the  lips,  in  the  early 
morning's  meditation,  ejaculatory  prayer, 
vocal  prayer,  and  above  all  in  Holy  Commu- 
nion. 

4.  Love  God,  be  devoted  to  Him,  and  Him 
alone,  have  no  affection  apart  from  Him,  re- 
strain the  love  that  would  estrange  us  from 
Him,  lend  ourselves  to  all,  out  of  love  to  Him, 
but  give  ourselves  to  Him  alone. 

5.  Think  of  God;  reject  whatever  excludes 
the  thought  of  Him.  Of  course,  we  must  ful- 
fil our  daily  duties,  accomplishing  them  with  all 
the  perfection  of  which  we  are  capable,  but 
they  must  be  done  as  beneath  the  Eye  of  God, 
with  the  thought  that  God  has  commanded 
them,  and  that  to  do  them  carefully,  is  pleas- 
ing in  His  sight. 

MEANS  BY  WHICH  TO  ATTAIN  THE  INTERIOR  LIFE. 

i.  Great  tenderness  of  Conscience,  secured 
by  constant,  regular  and  earnest  confession  to 
God,  a hatred  of  all  sin,  imperfection,  infidel- 
ity, by  calmly,  but  resolutely  fleeing  every 
occasion  of  it. 


88 


GOLD  DUST. 


2.  Great  purity  of  heart,  by  detachment 
from  all  earthly  things,  wealth,  luxuries,  fame, 
kindred,  friends,  tastes,  even  life  itself  . . . 
not  that  we  need  fail  in  love  to  our  kindred 
and  friends,  but  we  must  only  let  the  thought 
of  them  abide  in  the  heart,  as  united  to  the 
love  and  thought  of  God. 

3.  Great  purity  of  mind,  carefully  excluding 
from  it  all  useless,  distracting  thoughts  as  to 
past,  present,  or  future,  all  pre-occupation 
over  some  pet  employment,  all  desire  to  be 
known,  and  thought  well  of. 

4.  Great  purity  of  action,  only  undertaking 
what  lies  in  the  path  of  duty,  controlling  nat- 
ural eagerness  and  activity,  °cting  soberly, 
with  the  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  thought 
that  by  our  deeds  we  glorify  God,  pausing  for 
a moment,  when  passing  from  one  occupation 
to  another,  in  order  to  direct  aright  the  in- 
tention, and  taking  care  to  be  always  occupied 
in  what  is  useful  and  beneficial. 

5.  Great  recollectedness  and  self-mortifica- 
tion, avoiding,  as  much  as  we  can,  in  keeping 
with  our  social  position,  all  dissipation,  bustle, 
disturbance;  never  allowing  voluntarily,  use- 
less desires,  looks,  words,  or  pleasures;  but 
placing  them  under  the  rule  of  reason,  decor- 
um, edification  and  love,  taking  care  that  our 


GOLD  DUST. 


89 


prayers  be  said  slowly  and  carefully,  articulat- 
ing each  word,  and  trying  to  feel  the  truth  of 
what  we  are  saying. 

6.  Great  care  and  exactitude,  in  all  the  ordi- 
nary actions  of  life,  above  all,  in  the  exercises 
of  religion,  leaving  nothing  to  chance  or  haz- 
ard, beholding  in  everything  God’s  overruling 
Will,  and  saying  to  oneself  sometimes,  as  the 
hour  for  such  and  such  duty  arrives,  “I  must 
hasten,  God  is  calling  me.” 

7.  Much  intercourse  with  God,  speaking  to 
Him  with  simplicity,  loving  Him  dearly,  al- 
ways consulting  Him,  rendering  to  Him  an 
account  of  every  action,  thanking  Him  con- 
stantly, and,  above  all,  drawing  near  to  Him 
with  joy  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  One  great 
help  toward  such  sweet  communion  with  God, 
will  be  found  in  a steady  perseverance  in  the 
early  morning’s  meditation. 

8.  Much  love  for  our  neighbor,  because  he 
is  the  much-loved  child  of  God,  praying  for 
him,  comforting,  teaching,  strengthening,  and 
helping  him  in  all  difficulties. 

HINDRANCES  TO  THE  INTERIOR  LIFE. 

i.  Natural  activity,  always  urging  uson ; and 
making  us  too  precipitate  in  all  our  actions. 

It  shows  itself: 


90 


GOLD  DUST. 


In  our  projects,  which  it  multiplies,  heaps 
up,  reforms,  and  upsets.  It  allows  of  no  rest, 
until  what  it  has  undertaken  is  accomplished. 

In  our  actions.  Activity  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  us.  We  load  ourselves  with  a thousand 
things  beyond  our  duty,  sometimes  even  con- 
trary to  it.  Everything  is  done  with  impet- 
uosity and  haste,  anxiety  and  impatience  to 
see  the  end. 

In  our  conversation.  Activity  makes  us 
speak  without  thinking,  interrupting  rudely, 
reproving  hastily,  judging  without  apprecia- 
tion. We  speak  loudly,  disputing,  murmur- 
ing, and  losing  our  temper. 

In  prayer.  We  burden  ourselves  with 
numberless  prayers,  repeated  carelessly,  with- 
out attention,  and  with  impatience  to  get  to  the 
end  of  them ; it  interferes  with  our  meditations, 
wearies,  torments,  fatigues  the  brain,  drying 
up  the  soul,  and  hindering  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit. 

2.  Curiosity  lays  the  soul  open  to  all  exter- 
nal things,  fills  it  with  a thousand  fancies  and 
questionings,  pleasing  or  vexatious,  absorbing 
the  mind,  and  making  it  quite  impossible  to 
retire  within  oneself,  and  be  recollected. 
Then  follow  distaste,  sloth  and  ennui  for  all 


GOLD  DUST. 


91 


that  savors  of  silence,  retirement,  and  medita- 
tion. 

Curiosity  shows  itself,  when  studies  are  un- 
dertaken, from  vanity,  a desire  to  know  all 
things,  and  to  pass  as  clever,  rather  than  the 
real  wish  to  learn,  in  order  to  be  useful — in 
reading,  when  the  spare  time  is  given  up  to 
history,  papers,  and  novels — in  walking,  when 
our  steps  would  lead  us,  where  the  crowd  go 
to  see,  to  know,  only  in  order  to  have  some- 
thing to  retail ; in  fact,  it  manifests  itself  in  a 
thousand  little  actions;  for  instance,  pressing 
forward  with  feverish  haste  to  open  a letter 
addressed  to  us,  longing  eagerly  to  see  any- 
thing that  presents  itself — always  being  the 
first  to  tell  any  piece  of  news.  . . . When  we 
forget  God,  He  is  driven  from  the  heart, 
leaving  it  void,  and  then  ensues  that  wild  crav- 
ing to  fill  up  the  void  with  anything  with 
which  we  may  come  into  contact. 

3.  Cowardice.  God  does  not  forbid  patient, 
submissive  pleading,  but  murmuring  fears  are 
displeasing  to  Him,  and  He  withdraws  from 
the  soul  that  will  not  lean  on  Him.  Cowardice 
manifests  itself,  when  in  the  trials  of  life,  we 
rebel  against  the  Divine  will  that  sends  us 
illness,  calumny,  privation,  desertion;  when 
in  dryness  of  soul,  we  leave  off  our  prayers 


92 


GOLD  DUST. 


and  communions,  because  we  feel  no  sensible 
sweetness  in  them,  when  we  feel  a sickness 
of  the  soul,  that  makes  us  uneasy,  and  fearful 
that  God  has  forsaken  us. 

The  soul  estranged  from  God,  seeks  diversion 
in  the  world,  but  in  the  midst  of  the  world, 
God  is  not  to  be  found,  when  temptations 
come,  wearied,  frightened,  and  tormented,  we 
wander  farther  and  farther  away  from  Him, 
crying,  “I  am  forsaken,”  when  the  trial  has 
really  been  sent,  in  order  to  keep  us  on  our 
guard,  prevent  our  becoming  proud,  and  offer- 
ing us  an  opportunity  for  showing  our  love. 

V. 

THE  LESSON  OF  A DAISY. 

I saw  her  from  afar,  poor  child,  she  looked 
dreamy  as  she  leant  against  the  window,  and 
held  in  her  hand  a daisy,  which  she  was 
questioning  by  gradually  pulling  it  to  pieces. 
What  she  wanted  to  ascertain  I cannot  tell,  I 
only  heard  in  a low  murmur,  falling  from  her 
pale  lips,  these  words:  “A  little,  a great 

deal,  passionately,  not  at  all,”  as  each  petal 
her  fingers  pulled  away  fell  fluttering  at  her 
feet. 

I could  see  her  from  a distance,  and  I felt 
touched. 


GOLD  DUST. 


93 


Poor  child,  why  do  you  tell  a flower  the 
thought  that  troubles  you?  have  you  no 
mother? 

Why  be  anxious  about  the  future?  have  you 
not  God  to  prepare  it  for  you,  as  tenderly  as 
eighteen  years  ago  your  mother  prepared  your 
cradle? 

Finally,  when  the  daisy  was  all  but  gone, 
when  her  fingers  stopped  at  the  last  petal,  and 
her  lips  murmured  the  word  little,  she  dropped 
her  head  upon  her  arms,  discouraged,  and  poor 
child,  she  wept! 

Why  weep,  my  child?  is  it  because  this  word 
does  not  please  you? 

Let  me,  let  me,  in  the  name  of  the  simple 
daisy  you  have  just  destroyed,  give  you  the 
experience  of  my  old  age. 

Oh ! if  you  only  knew  what  it  costs  to  have 
much  of  anything ! 

A great  deal  of  wit  often  results  in  spiteful- 
ness, which  makes  us  cruel  and  unjust,  in 
jealousy  that  torments,  in  deception  that  sullies 
all  our  triumphs,  and  pride  which  is  never 
satisfied. 

A great  deal  of  heart  causes  uneasiness, 
which  vexes,  pain  that  rends  asunder,  grief 
that  nearly  kills  . . . sometimes  even  the 
judgment  is  deceived. 


94 


GOLD  DUST. 


A great  deal  of  attractiveness,  means  often 
a consuming  vanity,  overwhelming  deception, 
an  insatiable  desire  to  please,  a fear  of  being 
unappreciated,  a loss  of  peace,  domestic  life 
much  neglected. 

A great  deal  of  wealth  and  success  are  the 
cause  of  luxury  that  enfeebles,  loss  of  calm, 
quiet  happiness,  loss  of  love,  leaving  only  the 
flattery  that  captivates. 

No,  no,  my  child,  never  long  for  a great 
deal  in  this  life,  unless  it  be  for  much  forbear- 
ance, much  goodness. 

And  if  it  should  be  God’s  Will  to  give  you 
much  of  anything,  then,  oh,  pray  it  may  never 
be  to  your  condemnation. 

Is  passionately  the  word  you  long  for? 
Passionately!  oh,  the  harm  that  is  done  by 
that  word!  there  is  something  in  the  thought 
of  it  that  makes  me  shudder.  Passionately 
means  transport,  frenzy,  excess  in  everything. 

The  life  that  the  word  passionately  describes, 
must  be  a life  full  of  risks  and  dangers;  and 
if  by  little  short  of  a miracle,  nothing  out- 
wardly wrong  appears,  the  inner  life  must 
resemble  a palace,  ravaged  by  fire,  where  the 
stranger  sees  nothing  but  cracked  walls, 
blackened  furniture,  and  drapery  hanging  in 
shreds! 


GOLD  DUST. 


95 


My  child,  I would  prefer  for  you  the  words 
not  at  all,  as  applied  to  fortune,  external 
charms,  and  all  that  goes  by  the  name  of 
glory,  success,  and  fascination  in  the  world.  I 
know  it  may  seem  a hard  sentence,  involving 
a continual  self-denial,  and  exacting  incessant 
hard  labor  to  obtain  the  bare  necessities  of  life 
for  those  we  love. 

But  do  not  be  afraid  of  it.  God  never  leaves 
His  creatures  in  absolute  need.  God  may  de- 
prive a face  of  beauty,  a character  of  amiabili- 
ty, a mind  of  brilliancy,  but  He  will  never  take 
away  a heart  of  love ; with  the  faculty  of  loving, 
He  adds  the  power  of  prayer,  and  the  promise 
always  to  listen  to,  and  answer  it. 

As  long  as  we  can  love  and  pray,  life  has 
charms  for  us. 

Love  produces  devotion,  and  devotion  brings 
happiness,  even  though  we  may  not  under- 
stand it. 

In  prayer  we  feel  we  are  beloved,  and  the 
Love  of  God,  oh,  if  only  you  knew  how  it  com- 
pensates for  the  indifference  of  our  fellow- 
creatures! 

There  now  only  remains  to  us  the  last  words 
of  the  daisy,  a little!  the  loving  fatherly 
answer  God  has  given  to  your  childish  curi- 
osity. 


96 


GOLD  DUST. 


Accept  it,  and  make  it  the  motto  of  your 
life. 

A little ; moderation  in  wealth  and  fortune, 
a condition  that  promises  the  most  peaceful 
life,  free  from  anxiety  for  the  future,  doubt- 
less requiring  daily  duties,  but  permitting 
many  innocent  enjoyments. 

A little;  moderation  in  our  desires,  content- 
ment with  what  we  possess,  making  the  most 
of  it,  and  repressing  all  vain  dreams  of  a more 
brilliant  position,  a more  extended  reputation, 
a more  famous  name. 

A little ; the  affection  of  a heart  devoted  to 
duty,  and  kindling  joy  in  the  family  circle, 
composed  of  kindred  to  love,  friends  to  cheer, 
poor  to  succor,  hearts  to  strengthen,  sufferings 

to  alleviate. 

A little;  a taste  for  all  that  is  beautiful; 
books,  works  of  art,  music,  not  making  us  idly 
dream  of  fame,  but  simply  providing  enjoy- 
ment for  the  mind  all  the  more  keen,  as  the 
daily  toil  renders  the  occasion  rare. 

Do  you  see,  my  child,  how  much  may  lie 
beneath  those  simple  words  a little,  that  the 
daisy  gave  you,  and  that  you  seem  so  much  to 
despise? 

Never  scorn  anything  that  seems  wanting  in 


GOLD  DUST. 


97 


brilliancy,  and  remember  to  be  really  happy 
we  must  have 

More  virtue  than  knowledge, 

More  love  than  tenderness, 

More  guidance  than  cleverness, 

More  health  than  riches. 

More  repose  than  profit. 

VI. 

Each  day  is  like  a furrow  lying  before  us; 
our  thoughts,  desires,  and  actions  are  the  seed 
that  each  minute  we  drop  into  it,  without 
seeming  to  perceive  it.  The  furrow  finished, 
we  commence  upon  another,  then  another,  and 
again  another;  each  day  presents  a fresh  one, 
and  so  on  to  the  end  of  life  . . . sowing,  ever 
sowing.  And  all  we  have  sown  springs  up, 
grows  and  bears  fruit,  almost  unknown  to  us, 
even  if  by  chance  we  cast  a backward  glance 
we  fail  to  recognize  our  work. 

Behind  us,  angels  and  demons,  like  gleaners, 
gather  together  in  sheaves  all  that  belongs  to 
them. 

Every  night  their  store  is  increased.  They 
preserve  it,  and  at  the  last  day  will  present 
it  to  their  Master. 

Is  there  not  a thought  in  this  that  should 
make  us  reflect? 

Gold  Dust.  7 


98 


GOLD  DUST. 


VII. 

“LEARN  OF  ME,  FOR  I AM  MEEK  AND  LOWLY  OF 
HEART.  ” 

This  is  a simple  rule  of  life  for  me,  requiring 
no  more  than  I am  able,  but  I feel  it  unites  me 
to  God,  makes  me  more  devout,  more  faithful 
to  duty,  more  ready  for  death.  Since  I made 
it  my  rule,  it  has  been  to  me  a source  of  con- 
solation, enlightenment  and  strength,  and  yet 
God  alone  knows  how  full  of  pain  my  life  has 
been! 

Dear  friends,  who  like  myself,  long  to  be- 
come holy,  I commend  this  sentence  to  you, 
in  all  its  simplicity;  listen,  for  it  comes  from 
the  loving  Heart  of  Jesus,  it  fell  from  His 
gentle  Lips: 

“Learn  of  Me,  for  I am  meek  and  lowly  of 
heart.  ” 

I.  Be  Meek. 

I.  MEEK  TOWARD  GOD. 

Living  from  day  to  day  beneath  His  Eye, 
and  where  all  things  are  ordered  by  a Divine 
Providence. 

As  carefully  as  a mother  arranges  the  room 
where  her  child  will  pass  the  day,  does  God 
prepare  each  hour  that  opens  before  me. 
Whatever  has  to  be  done,  it  is  His  Will  that  I 


GOLD  DUST. 


99 


should  do  it,  and  in  order  that  it  should  be 
done  well,  He  provides  the  necessary  time,  in- 
telligence, aptitude,  and  knowledge. 

Whatever  of  suffering  presents  itself,  He 
expects  me  to  bear  it,  even  though  I may  not 
see  any  reason  for  it,  and  if  the  pain  be  so 
sharp  as  to  call  forth  a cry,  He  gently  whis- 
pers: “Courage,  My  child,  for  it  is  My  will!” 

If  anything  occurs  to  hinder  my  work,  any- 
thing goes  contrary  to  my  plans  and  projects, 
He  has  ordained  it  so,  on  purpose,  because  He 
knows  that  too  much  success  would  make  me 
proud,  too  much  ease  would  make  me  sensual, 
and  He  would  teach  me  that  the  road  to  heaven, 
is  not  success,  but  labor  and  devotion. 

With  such  thoughts  as  these,  all  rebellion  is 
hushed!  With  what  peace,  what  joy  our  work 
may  be  begun,  continued,  interrupted,  and  re- 
sumed! 

With  what  energy  we  reject  those  enemies 
that  assail  us  at  every  hour;  idleness,  haste, 
preoccupation,  success,  want  of  perseverance 
under  difficulties! 

Does  the  past  sometimes  rise  up  to  trouble 
me  with  the  thought  of  the  many  years  spent 
without  God? 

Ah ! no  doubt  the  shame  and  grief  are  sharp 


100 


GOLD  DUST. 


and  keen,  but  why  need  they  disturb  my 
peace  of  mind? 

Has  not  God  promised  His  pardon  for  His 
blessed  Son’s  sake,  to  all  who  truly  repent  and 
unfeignedly  believe  His  Holy  Gospel?  Have 
I made  a full  avowal  and  entire  submission? 
and  am  I not  willing  to  "fulfil  whatever  I am 
advised  in  God’s  name  to  do  for  the  future? 

Does  the  future  in  its  turn  seem  to  frighten 
me?  I smile  at  the  foolish  fancies  of  my  im- 
agination; is  not  my  future  in  God’s  Hands? 

What ; when  all  that  will  befall  me  to-mor- 
row, next  year,  ten  years,  twenty  years  hence, 
is  ordained  by  Him,  shall  I distress  myself 
with  the  thought  that  it  may  not  be  good  for 
me! 

Lord!  be  Thou  my  Guide,  and  choose  my 
lot,  as  may  seem  best  to  Thee! 

2.  MEEK  UNDER  ALL  CIRCUMSTANCES. 

Events  are  messages  of  either  Divine  Good- 
ness, or  justice. 

Each  has  a mission  to  fulfil,  and  as  it  comes 
from  God,  why  not  let  it  be  accomplished  in 
peace? 

Painful,  heartrending,  though  they  may  be, 
they  are  still  the  Will  of  God.  Watch  them 
as  they  come,  with  a little  trembling,  perhaps 


GOLD  DUST. 


101 


even  terror,  but  never  let  them  destroy  in  the 
least  degree,  my  faith  and  resignation. 

To  be  meek  under  these  circumstances,  does 
not  mean  awaiting  them  with  a stoic  firmness 
which  proceeds  from  pride,  or  hardening  one- 
self against  them  to  the  point  of  repressing  all 
trembling,  no!  God  allows  us  sometimes  to 
anticipate,  postpone,  or  even  when  possible 
flee  them,  at  any  rate  we  may  try  to  soothe, 
and  soften  them  a little. 

The  Good  Father,  when  He  sends  them, 
sends  at  the  same  time  the  means  by  which 
they  may  be  endured,  and  perhaps  averted. 
Remedies,  in  sickness, 

Love,  in  trouble, 

Devotion,  in  privations, 

Comfort,  in  weakness, 

Tears,  in  sorrow. 

God  has  created  all  these,  and  knowing  per- 
haps that  I may  fail  to  find  them,  He  has 
given  commandment  to  some  privileged  ser- 
vants to  love,  console,  soothe,  and  help  me, 
saving  to  them, 

“Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of 
the  least  of  these  My  brethren,  ye  have  done 
it  as  unto  Me.” 

Oh ! welcome  then  the  friendly  voice,  that  in 
the  midst  of  trouble,  speaks  to  me  of  hope;  I 


102 


GOLD  DUST. 


will  receive  with  gratitude  the  care  that  affec- 
tion presses  upon  me. 

With  thankfulness  I accept  the  time  devoted 
to  me,  privation  borne  for  my  sake,  and  I will 
pray  God  to  bless  these  kind  friends,  and  ask 
Him  to  say  to  them,  words  such  as  these: 
“All  that  thou  hast  done  for  Mine,  I will  repay 
thee  a hundred-fold.” 

3.  MEEK  TOWARD  OTHERS. 

This  may  seem  even  more  difficult,  for  it  so 
often  appears  to  us,  as  if  others  were  actuated 
by  malice. 

But  how  often  it  is  only  the  result  of  tem- 
perament, pride,  thoughtlessness;  seeking  their 
own  pleasure,  without  a thought  of  the  harm 
they  are  doing  me;  then  why  be  unhappy 
about  it?  I need  only  to  be  on  my  guard. 

Never  stand  in  the  way  of  others  (when  it 
is  not  the  case  of  a duty  to  be  fulfilled),  and  if 
they  sometimes  are  an  obstacle  in  yours, 
remove  them  gently,  but  do  not  harm  them. 

Yielding,  submitting,  retiring,  giving  up, 
this  should  be  our  conduct  toward  the  members 
of  our  family,  and  those  we  call  our  friends. 

The  more  facility  you  give  them  for  doing 
what  they  think  right,  the  more  you  enter 
into  the  feelings  they  have  of  their  own  im- 


GOLD  DUST. 


103 


portance,  leaving  them  a free  course  of  action, 
so  much  the  more  will  you  be  likely  to  be  use- 
ful to  them,  and  retain  your  own  peace  of 
mind. 

It  is  astonishing  how  those  we  never  press, 
open  their  hearts  to  us! 

Do  not  try  to  examine  too  minutely  the 
actions  of  others,  or  the  motives  that  actuate 
them;  if  they  are  wanting  in  tact,  appear  not 
to  notice  it,  or  better  still,  try  and  think  they 
have  made  a mistake. 

The  best  remedy  for  the  dislike  we  feel 
toward  any  one,  is  to  endeavor  to  try  and  do 
them  a little  good  every  day ; the  best  cure  for 
their  dislike  to  us,  is  to  try  and  speak  kindly 
of  them. 

Are  those  around  you  wicked?  be  cautious, 
but  do  not  lose  heart,  God  will  not  let  them 
harm  you. 

How  easy  for  God  to  stay  the  consequences 
of  slander  and  calumny! 

God  is  the  shield, interposing  between  others, 
circumstances,  and  myself. 

4.  MEEK  TOWARD  SELF. 

This  does  not  imply  self-complacency,  self- 
indulgence,  self-justification,  but  simply  en- 
couragement, strength,  and  fortitude. 


104 


GOLD  DUST. 


Encouragement  in  some  wearisome  monoto- 
nous unrecognized  work,  with  a thought  like 
this:  “God  is  watching  me,  and  wishes  me  to 
do  this.  “ This  labor  occupies  my  mind,  per- 
fects my  soul,  and  shields  me  from  mischief. 

Encouragement  such  as  this,  in  the  midst 
of  sadness  and  isolation,  when  no  one  thinks 
of  us,  or  gives  us  the  smallest  token  of  sym- 
pathy: “Is  not  my  duty  sufficient  for  me?  God 
requires  it  of  me,  and  it  will  lead  me  to 
Heaven.  ” 

Strength  to  rise  again  after  some  failure, 
some  humiliating  fault,  some  depressing  weak- 
ness; rise  again  lovingly,  confidingly,  and  with 
the  thought,  “Never  mind,  it  is  a Good  Father, 
a Kind  Master,  with  Whom  I have  to  deal.’* 
Confess  your  sin,  humble  yourself,  and  while 
awaiting  the  assurance  of  pardon  go  on  with 
your  daily  work,  with  the  same  zeal  as  before. 

Fortitude,  against  the  desertion  and  forgetful- 
ness of  others. 

We  have  two  things  to  fortify  us:  Prayer 
and  Labor. 

One  to  cheer  us:  Devotion. 

These  remedies  are  always  at  hand. 


GOLD  DUST. 


105 


ii.  Be  Humble . 

I.  HUMBLE  WITH  GOD. 

Resting  always  in  his  Presence,  like  a little 
child,  or  even  a beggar,  who  knowing  noth- 
ing is  due  to  him,  still  asks,  loves,  and  awaits, 
feeling  sure  that  hour  by  hour  in  proportion 
to  our  need,  God  will  provide  all  that  is  need- 
ful, and  even  over  and  above  what  is  absolutely 
necessary.  Live  peacefully  under  the  protec- 
tion of  Divine  Providence;  the  more  you  feel 
your  insignificance,  weakness,  sickness,  misery, 
the  more  right  you  have  to  the  pity  and  love 
of  God. 

Only  pray  fervently;  let  your  prayer  be 
thoughtful  and  reverent,  sweet,  and  full  of 
hope.  The  poor  have  nothing  left  to  them 
but  prayer,  but  that  prayer,  so  humble,  so 
pleading,  ascends  to  God,  and  is  listened  to 
with  Fatherly  love. 

Do  not  have  a number  of  varied  prayers,  but 
let  the  “Our  Father* * be  ever  on  your  lips,  and 
in  your  heart. 

Love  to  repeat  to  God  the  prayer  that  Christ 
Himself  has  taught,  and  for  His  sake  is  always 
accepted. 

Look  upon  yourself  as  a hired  servant  of  God, 
to  whom  He  has  promised  a rich  reward,  at 


106 


GOLD  DUST. 


the  end  of  the  day,  He  calls  life;  each  morn* 
ing,  hold  yourself  in  readiness  to  obey  all  His 
commands,  in  the  way  He  wills,  and  with  the 
means  He  appoints. 

The  command  may  not  always  come  direct 
from  the  Master,  it  would  be  too  sweet  to  hear 
only  God’s  Voice;  but  He  sends  it  by  means 
of  His  ambassadors;  these  go  by  the  names  of 
superiors, equals,  inferiors,  sometimes  enemies. 

Each  has  received  the  mission  (without 
knowing  it)  to  make  you  holy;  one  by  subdu- 
ing your  independence,  another  by  crushing 
your  pride,  a third  by  spurring  your  slothful- 
ness. 

They  will,  though  fulfilling  God’s  command, 
do  it  each  in  their  own  way, sometimes  roughly, 
sometimes  maliciously,  sometimes  in  a way 
hard  to  bear  . . . what  does  it  matter,  so  long 
as  you  feel  that  all  you  do,  all  you  suffer,  is  the 
Will  of  God? 

Do  your  duty  as  well  as  you  can,  as  you  un- 
derstand it,  as  it  is  given  to  you;  say  some- 
times to  God,  “My  Master,  art  Thou  satisfied 
with  me?”  and  then  in  spite  of  ennui,  fatigue, 
repugnance,  go  on  with  it,  faithfully  to  the 
end. 

Then  whether  praise  or  blame  be  yours, 


GOLD  DUST. 


107 


you  will,  good  faithful  servant,  at  least  have 
peace. 

2.  HUMBLE  TOWARD  OTHERS. 

Look  upon  yourself  as  the  servant  of  all,  but 
without  ostentation,  or  their  having  any  knowl- 
edge of  it. 

Repeat  to  yourself  sometimes  the  words  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary:  “Behold  the  hand- 
maid of  the  Lord, ” and  those  of  our  Lord,  “I 
came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minis- 
ter,’ ' and  then  act  toward  others  as  if  you  were 
their  slave,  warning,  aiding,  listening ; abashed 
at  what  they  do  for  you,  and  always  seeming 
pleased  at  anything  they  may  require  you  to 
do  for  them. 

Oh ! if  you  knew  the  full  meaning  of  these 
words,  all  they  signify  of  reward  in  heaven,  of 
joy  and  peace  on  earth,  how  you  would  love 
them! 

Oh ! if  you  would  only  make  them  the  rule 
of  your  life  and  conduct,  how  happy  you  would 
be  yourself,  and  how  happy  you  would  make 
others! 

Happy  in  the  approval  of  conscience,  that 
whispers,  “you  have  done  as  Christ  would 
have  done.” 

Happy  in  the  thought  of  the  reward  promised 
to  those  who  give  even  a cup  of  cold  water  in 


108 


GOLD  DUST. 


the  Name  of  Jesus  Christ;  happy  in  the  assur- 
ance that  God  will  do  for  you  what  you  have 
done  for  others. 

Oh!  what  matters  then  ingratitude,  forget- 
fulness, contempt,  and  scorn?  They  will  pain, 
no  doubt,  but  will  have  no  power  to  sadden,  or 
discourage. 

Precious  counsel,  inspired  by  Christ  Himself, 
I bless  you  for  all  the  good  you  have  done 
me! 

When  first  those  words  found  entrance  to 
my  heart,  they  brought  with  them  peace  and 
strength  to  stand  against  deception,  desertion, 
discouragement,  and  the  resolute  will  to  live  a 
life  more  devoted  to  God,  more  united  to  Him, 
more  contented,  and  ever  pressing  onward 
toward  heaven.  Once  more,  I bless  you! 

Precious  counsels,  enlighten,  guide,  and  lead 
me. 

VIII. 

A SIMPLE  PRAYER. 

O Jesu!  in  the  midst  of  glory,  forget  not 
the  sadness  upon  earth!  Have  mercy  upon 
those,  to  whom  God  has  sent  the  bitter  trial  of 
separation  from  those  they  love ! 

Have  mercy  on  that  loneliness  of  heart  so 
full  of  sadness,  so  crushing,  sometimes  full  of 
terror! 


GOLD  DUST. 


109 


Have  mercy  upon  those  struggling  against 
the  difficulties  of  life,  and  faint  with  discour- 
agement! 

Have  mercy  on  those,  whom  fortune  favors, 
whom  the  world  fascinates,  and  who  are  free 
from  care! 

Have  mercy  on  those  to  whom  Thou  hast 
given  great  tenderness  of  heart,  great  sensi- 
tiveness! 

Have  mercy  on  those  who  cease  to  love  us, 
and  never  may  they  know  the  pain  they  cause! 

Have  mercy  on  those  who  have  gradually 
withdrawn  from  Holy  Communion,  and  Prayer, 
and  losing  peace  within,  weep,  yet  dare  not 
return  to  Thee! 

Have  mercy  on  all  we  love : make  them  holy, 
even  through  suffering!  if  ever  they  estrange 
themselves  from  Thee,  take,  oh,  take  all  my 
joys,  and  decoy  them  with  the  pleasures,  back 
again  to  Thee! 

Have  mercy  on  those  who  weep,  those  who 
pray,  those  who  know  not  how  to  pray! 

To  all,  O Jesus!  grant  Hope  and  Peace. 

IX. 

SIMPLE  COUNSELS  FOR  A YOUNG  GIRL. 

Yes,  very  simple.  Listen,  my  child,  and 
may  they  sink  deep  into  your  heart,  as  the  dew 
sinks  in  the  calyx  of  the  flower, 


110 


GOLD  DUST. 


These  are  my  counsels: 

Distrust  the  love  that  comes  too  suddenly. 

Distrust  the  pleasure  that  fascinates  so 
keenly. 

Distrust  the  words  that  trouble,  or  charm. 

Distrust  the  book  that  makes  you  dream. 

Distrust  the  thought  you  cannot  confide  to 
your  mother. 

Treasure  these  counsels,  and  sometimes  as 
you  read  them,  ask  yourself,  “Why?”  Guardian 
Angel  of  the  child  we  are  addressing,  teach  her 
the  reason  of  these  sentences  that  seem  to  her 
so  exaggerated! 

X. 

A RECIPE  FOR  NEVER  ANNOYING  OUR  FRIENDS. 

This  was  made  by  one  who  had  suffered 
much  for  many  years,  from  numberless  little 
worries,  occasioned  by  a relative,  whose  affec- 
tion no  doubt  was  sincere  and  devoted,  but  also 
too  ardent,  and  wanting  in  discretion. 

There  must  be  moderation  in  all  things,  even 
in  the  love  we  manifest,  the  care  we  take  to 
shield  them  from  trouble. 

This  recipe  consists  of  but  four  simple  rules, 
very  clear,  very  precise;  behold  them: 

i.  Always  leave  my  friend  something  more 
to  desire  of  me.  If  he  asks  me  to  go  and  see 


GOLD  DUST. 


Ill 


him  three  times,  I go  but  twice.  He  will  look 
forward  to  my  coming  a third  time,  and  when 
I go,  receive  me  the  more  cordially. 

It  is  so  sweet  to  feel  we  are  needed,  and  so 
hard  to  be  thought  importunate. 

2.  Be  useful  to  my  friend,  as  far  as  he  per- 
mits, and  no  further. 

An  over-anxious  affection  becomes  tiresome, 
and  a multiplicity  of  beautiful  sentiments 
makes  them  almost  insupportable. 

Devotion  to  a friend  does  not  consist  in  doing 
everything  for  him,  but  simply  that  which  is 
agreeable,  and  of  service  to  him,  and  let  it  only 
be  revealed  to  him  by  accident. 

We  all  love  freedom,  and  cling  tenaciously 
to  our  little  fancies,  we  do  not  like  others  to 
arrange  what  we  have  purposely  left  in  dis- 
order; we  even  resent  their  over-anxiety  and 
care  for  us. 

3.  Be  much  occupied  with  my  own  affairs 
and  little,  very  little,  with  those  of  my  friend. 

This  infallibility  leads  to  a favo'rable  result. 
To  begin  with,  in  occupying  myself  with  my 
own  affairs,  I shall  the  more  speedily  accom- 
plish them,  while  my  friend  is  doing  the  same. 

If  he  appeals  to  me  for  help,  I will  go 
through  both  fire  and  water  to  serve  him,  but 
if  not,  then  I do  myself  and  him  the  greater 


112 


GOLD  DUST. 


service  by  abstaining.  If,  however,  I can  serve 
him  without  his  knowledge  of  it,  and  I can  see 
his  need,  then  I must  be  always  ready  to  do  it. 

4.  Leave  my  friend  always  at  liberty  to  think 
and  act  for  himself  in  matters  of  little  import- 
ance. Why  compel  him  to  think  and  act  with 
me?  Am  I the  type  of  all  that  is  beautiful 
and  right?  Is  it  not  absurd  to  think  that 
because  another  acts  and  thinks  differently  to 
myself,  he  must  needs  be  wrong?  No  doubt  I 
may  not  always  say,  “You  are  right,”  but  I 
can  at  any  rate  let  him  think  it. 

Try  this  recipe  of  mine,  and  I can  answer  for 
it  your  friendship  will  be  lasting. 

XI. 

BENEATH  THE  EYE  OF  GOD,  GOD  ONLY. 

As  you  read  these  words,  are  you  not  con- 
scious of  an  inward  feeling  of  peace  and  quiet- 
ness? 

Beneath  God's  Eye,  there  is  something  in 
the  thought,  like  a sheltering  rock,  a refresh- 
ing dew,  a gleam  of  light. 

Ah!  why  always  such  seeking  for  some  one 
to  see  me,  to  understand,  appreciate,  praise 
me? 

The  human  eye  I seek  is  like  the  scorching 
ray  that  destroys  all  the  delicate  colors  in  the 


GOLD  DUST. 


113 


most  costly  material.  Every  action  that  is 
done,  only  to  be  seen  of  others,  loses  its  fresh- 
ness in  the  sight  of  God:  like  the  flower,  that 
passing  through  many  hands,  is  at  last  hardly 
presentable. 

Oh ! my  soul,  be  as  the  desert  flower,  that 
grows,  blooms,  and  flourishes  unseen  in  obedi- 
ence to  God’s  Will,  and  cares  not  whether  the 
passing  bird  perceives  it,  or  the  wind  scatters 
the  petals,  scarcely  formed. 

On  no  account  neglect  the  duty  you  owe  to 
friendship,  relatives,  society,  but  remember 
each  day  to  reserve  some  portion  of  it  for  your- 
self and  God  only. 

Remember  always  to  do  some  actions  that 
can  be  known  to  none  but  God. 

Ah ! how  sweet  to  have  God  as  our  only  Wit- 
ness. 

It  is  the  highest  degree  of  holiness; 

The  most  exquisite  happiness; 

The  assurance  of  an  entry  into  heaven  here- 
after. 

The  mother  that  reserves  all  that  is  most 
costly  for  her  child ; the  child  that  prepares  in 
secret  some  surprise  for  its  mother,  do  not 
experience  a joy  more  pure,  more  elevating, 
than  the  servant  of  God,  who  lives  always  in 
God’s  Presence,  Whom  alone  they  would 

Gold  Dust.  8 


114 


GOLD  DUST. 


please ; or  the  loving  heart  that  enclosing  alms 
to  some  destitute  family  writes  upon  the  cover, 
these  words  only,  “In  the  name  of  the  Good 
and  Gracious  God.  ” 

The  following  lines  were  found  on  some 
scraps  of  paper  belonging  to  some  stranger: 
. . . . They  have  just  told  me  of  a poor  desti- 
tute woman,  I gave  them  ten  pence  for  her;  it 
was  my  duty  to  set  an  example. 

And  now,  my  God,  for  Thee,  for  Thy  sake 
only,  I mean  to  send  her  five  shillings,  which 
I shall  deduct  from  my  personal  expenses. 

....  To-morrow,  Henry  is  coming  to  see 
me,  that  poor  Henry  I loved  so  dearly,  but 
who  has  grown  cold  toward  his  old  friend. 
He  wished  to  grieve  me,  and  little  knows  that 
I found  it  out.  Help  me,  Lord,  to  remember 
I have  forgiven  him,  and  help  me  to  receive 
him  cordially. 

Thou  alone  knowest  all  I have  suffered. 

....  What  a happy  day  was  yesterday! 
happy  with  regard  to  heavenly  things,  for  alas! 
my  poor  heart  suffered. 

Yesterday  was  a Festival.  The  snow  outside 
kept  every  one  at  home  by  their  own  firesides, 
and  I was  left  lonely.  . . . Ah!  yes,  my  heart 
felt  sad,  but  my  spirit  was  peaceful ; I tried  to 
talk  to  God,  just  as  if  I could  really  see  Him 


GOLD  DUST. 


115 


at  my  side,  and  gradually  I felt  comforted,  and 
spent  my  evening  with  a sweet  sense  of  God’s 

Presence What  I said,  what  I wrote, 

I know  not,  but  the  remembrance  of  yesterday 
remains  to  me  as  some  sweet  refreshing  per- 
fume. 

Perhaps  at  the  Last  Day  all  that  will  remain 
worth  recording  of  a life  full  of  activity  and 
zeal,  will  be  those  little  deeds  that  were  done 
solely  beneath  the  Eye  of  God.  . . . 

My  God,  teach  me  to  live  with  an  abiding 
sense  of  Thy  Presence,  laboring  for  Thee,  suf- 
fering for  Thee,  guided  by  Thee  . . . and 
Thee  alone! 

XII. 

My  Duty  Toward  God . 

PRAYERS. 

Slow,  recollected,  persevering. 

Peaceful,  calm,  resigned. 

Simple,  humble,  trusting. 

Always  reverent,  as  loving  as  possible. 
Charitable.  Have  I not  always  opportunity 
to  give?  to  thank? 

SUBMISSION. 

To  my  lot  and  to  my  duty:  they  come  from 
God,  are  ordained  by  God,  lead  me  to  God, 


116 


GOLD  DUST. 


to  neglect  them  is  to  estrange  myself  from 
Him. 

To  the  Guide  of  my  soul:  he  has  received 
the  Holy  Spirit  in  order  to  show  me  the 
way;  he  has  God’s  Spirit  to  guide  him. 

To  my  Parents:  they  have  God’s  authority. 

To  circumstances:  they  are  arranged  and 
sent  by  God. 

LABOR. 

Begun  cheerfully. 

Continued  perseveringly. 

Interrupted  and  resumed  patiently. 

Finished  perfectly  and  devoutly. 

Repose  and  care  for  the  body;  as  in  God’s 
Sight;  under  God’s  protection. 

My  Duty  toward  my  Neighbor . 

GOOD  EXAMPLE. 

By  modest  demeanor,  and  simple  dress. 

By  a smiling  face,  and  pleasing  manner. 

Always  striving  to  give  pleasure. 

Faithfully  fulfilling  every  duty. 

GOOD  WORDS. 

Zealous  without  affectation,  encouraging, 
consoling,  peaceful,  joyful,  loving.  These 
are  possible  every  day. 


GOLD  DUST. 


117 


GOOD  DEEDS. 

Service  rendered  by  alms;  by  industry;  by 
influence. 

Ills  remedied,  by  excusing,  justifying,  pro- 
tecting, defending,  concealing  faults  and 
mistakes,  if  possible,  by  repairing  them. 

Joys  provided,  for  the  mind,  by  a joyous 
manner;  for  the  heart,  by  loving  thanks; 
for  the  soul,  by  a word  of  Heaven. 

My  Duty  toward  Myself. 

COURAGE. 

In  trials  and  adversity,  disturbance,  sickness, 
failure,  humiliations. 

Worries  that  trouble  without  reason. 

Ill  temper  controlled,  in  order  not  to  pain 
others. 

After  failures,  to  begin  again. 

In  temptations,  to  withstand  them. 

ORDER  AND  METHOD. 

In  my  occupation,  each  at  its  appointed  hour. 

In  my  recreation. 

In  all  material  things,  for  my  benefit. 

Shunning  scruples  and  const! aint,  as  much 
as  caprice  and  folly. 


\ 


118 


GOLD  DUST, 


NOURISHMENT. 

Pious  thoughts,  read,  meditated  upon  and 
sometimes  written. 

Books,  that  elevate  and  excite  love  for  all 
that  is  good  and  lovely. 

Conversations,  that  refresh,  rejoice,  and 
cheer,  walks  that  expand  the  mind,  as 
well  as  strengthen  the  body. 

XIII. 

THE  POWER  OF  AN  ACT  OF  LOVE  TOWARD  GOD. 

Have  you  ever  reflected  upon  this? 

Let  us  consider  the  exact  words  that  describe 
it. 

“I  love  Thee  with  all  my  heart,  with  all  my 
soul,  with  all  my  strength,  because  Thou  art 
so  good,  so  infinitely  good!” 

Try  and  repeat  these  words  slowly,  so  that 
each  may  penetrate  deep  into  your  heart. 

Do  you  not  feel  moved,  as  if  your  whole 
being,  in  these  words  went  forth  to  God,  offer- 
ing to  Him  life  itself? 

Do  you  not  feel  in  making  this  Act  of  Love, 
you  give  far  more  than  if  you  gave  your  wealth, 
influence  or  time;  nay,  rather  does  not  this 
very  act  seem  to  bring  you  riches,  strength,  op- 
portunities, all  that  you  possess? 


GOLD  DUST. 


119 


Picture  to  yourself,  standing  before  you  a 
child — a child  perhaps  who  may  have  injured 
you  deeply,  and  yet  whose  sincerit}^  at  this 
moment  you  cannot  doubt,  who  is  actuated 
neither  by  fear  nor  self-seeking,  but  simply  by 
a penitent  heart,  and  who  comes  to  say  to  you 
words  of  love,  such  as  those  above,  do  you  feel 
no  emotion,  no  feeling  of  pity? 

I defy  you  to  be  without  some  emotion,  not 
to  feel  your  arms  extending,  perhaps  in  spite 
of  you,  to  embrace  this  poor  child,  and  not  to 
answer:  “I  also  love  thee.  ” 

I have  yet  another  test  to  put  to  you,  poor, 
desolate,  guilty,  hopeless  as  you  are,  seeing 
only  within  and  around  you,  fears,  terror,  and 
— ay,  let  me  say  it— damnation. 

I defy  you  to  kneel  and  say  these  words, 
(laying  a greater  stress  on  them  because  of 
the  repugnance  you  feel);  “My  God!  I love 
Thee  with  all  my  heart,  with  all  my  strength, 
with  all  my  soul,  above  everything,  because 
Thou  art  so  good,  so  infinitely  good!”  and  then 
not  to  feel  that  Jesus  is  moved  with  compas- 
sion, and  not  to  hear  His  Voice,  saying  to  you: 
“My  child,  I love  thee  also!” 

O Jesus,  how  can  we  find  words  in  which  to 
express  the  tenderness  awakened  in  Thine 
Heart,  by  a word  of  love  from  one  of  Thy  little 


120 


GOLD  DUST. 


ones!  That  Heart,  so  tender,  gentle,  sensitive, 
and  loving! 

A sentence  of  Faber’s  may  sound  unnatural 
to  us,  so  little  spiritually-minded;  he  says, 
“God  sometimes  draws  us  to  Him,  and  fills  us 
with  love  for  Him,  not  that  He  may  love  us, 
that  He  always  does,  but  in  order  to  make  us 
feel  how  He  loves  us!” 

An  Act  of  Love  demands  but  a few  moments. 
The  whole  of  the  day,  even  in  the  midst  of 
labor,  we  an  multiply  it  infinitely,  and  what 
wonders  are  wrought  by  each  Act ! 

Jesus  Himself  is  glorified,  and  He  sheds 
abundant  grace  upon  the  earth. 

Our  Guardian  Angel,  beholding  us,  listens, 
draws  nearer,  and  makes  us  feel  we  have  done 
right. 

The  Angels  above  experience  a sudden  joy, 
and  look  upon  us  tenderly. 

Evil  spirits  feel  their  power  diminished,  and 
there  is  a moment  of  rest  from  the  temptation 
that  surrounds  us. 

The  choir  of  saints  above  renew  their  songs 
of  praise. 

Each  soul  on  earth  feels  the  peace  Divine. 

Ah!  which  of  us  each  day  would  not  renew 
these  Acts  of  Love  to  God ! 

Ah!  all  who  read  these  lines,  pause  for  one 


GOLD  DUST. 


121 


moment,  and  from  the  bottom  of  your  heart 
exclaim:  “My  God!  I love  thee!  my  God,  I 
love  Thee!” 

XIV. 

BE  SERIOUS. 

A statesman  retiring  from  public  life  occu- 
pied himself  in  his  latter  days  with  serious 
thoughts. 

The  friends  who  came  to  visit  him,  re- 
proached him  with  being  melancholy.  No, 
he  replied,  I am  only  serious.  All  around  me 
is  serious,  and  I feel  the  need  that  heart  and 
mind  should  be  in  unison  with  my  surround- 
ings. 

“For,”  he  added,  with  such  solemnity  as  to 
impress  all  present,  “God  is  serious  as  He 
watches  us.  Jesus  is  serious  when  He  inter- 
cedes for  us.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  serious  when 
He  guides  us.  Satan  is  serious  when  he  tempts 
us.  The  wicked  in  hell  are  serious  now,  be- 
cause they  neglected  to  be  so  when  on  earth ; 
all  is  serious  in  that  world  whither  we  are 
wending.  ” 

Oh ! my  friends,  believe  me,  it  is  all  true ; 
let  us  at  least  at  times  be  serious  in  our 
thoughts  and  in  our  actions. 


122 


GOLD  DUST. 


XV. 

CONSOLATION. 

You  distress  yourself  sometimes,  poor  thing! 
because  amongst  those  who  surround  you, 
there  are  one  or  two  who  worry  and  annoy 
you.  They  do  not  like  you,  find  fault  with 
everything  you  do,  they  meet  you  with  a 
severe  countenance  and  austere  manner,  you 
think  they  do  you  harm,  you  look  upon  them 
as  obstacles  to  your  doing  good. 

Your  life  passes  away  saddened,  and  faded, 
and  gradually  you  become  disheartened. 
Courage!  instead  of  vexing  yourself,  thank 
God;  these  very  persons  are  the  means  of  pre- 
serving you  from  humiliating  faults,  perhaps 
even  greater  sins. 

It  is  like  the  blister  the  doctor  applies,  to 
draw  out  the  inflammation  that  would  kill. 

God  sees  that  too  much  joy,  too  much  hap- 
piness, procured  by  those  little  attentions  for 
which  you  are  so  eager,  would  make  you  care- 
less and  slothful  in  prayer ; too  much  affec- 
tion would  only  enervate,  and  you  would  cling 
too  much  to  earthly  things ; so  in  order  to  pre- 
serve your  heart  in  all  its  tenderness  and  sim- 
plicity, He  plants  there  a few  thorns,  and  cuts 
you  off  from  all  the  pleasures  you  fancy  yours 


GOLD  DUST. 


123 


by  right.  God  knows  that  too  much  praise 
would  cause  pride,  and  make  you  less  forbear- 
ing to  others,  and  so  He  sends  instead  humili- 
ations. Let  them  be,  then,  these  persons  who 
unconsciously  are  doing  God’s  work  within 
you. 

If  you  cannot  love  them  from  sympathy, 
love  with  an  effort  of  the  will,  and  say  to  God: 
4 4 My  God,  grant  that  without  offending  Thee, 
they  may  work  my  sanctification.  I have  need 
of  them.  ” 

XVI. 

HOLY  COMMUNION. 

The  result  of  good  Communion  is,  within,  a 
fear  of  sin,  without,  a love  for  others. 

Holy  Communion  is  a great  aid  to  sanctifica- 
tion. 

Jesus  visits  the  soul,  working  in  it,  and  fill- 
ing it  with  His  Grace,  which  is  shed  on  all 
around,  as  the  sun  sheds  forth  its  light,  the 
fire  gives  out  its  heat. 

It  is  impossible  but  that  Christ,  thus  visiting 
the  soul,  should  not  leave  something  Christ- 
like  within,  if  only  the  soul  be  disposed  to  re- 
ceive it.  Fire,  whose  property  is  to  give 
warmth,  cannot  produce  that  effect  unless  the 
body  be  placed  near  enough  to  be  penetrated 
with' the  heat. 


124 


GOLD  DUST. 


Does  not  this  simple  thought  explain  the 
reason,  that  there  is  often  so  little  result  from 
our  frequent  Communions? 

Do  you  long  at  each  Communion  to  receive 
the  grace  bestowed  by  Christ,  that  shall  little 
by  little  fit  you  for  heaven  hereafter? 

Will  you,  receiving  thus  the  God  of  Peace 
within,  have  for  those  around  you  kind  words 
that  shall  fill  them  with  calmness,  resignation, 
and  peace? 

Will  you,  receiving  thus  the  God  of  Love, 
gradually  increase  in  tenderness  and  love  that 
will  urge  you  to  sacrifice  yourself  for  others, 
loving  them  as  Christ  would  have  loved  them? 

Will  you,  receiving  Him,  you  rightly  name 
the  Gracious  God,  become  yourself  gracious, 
gracious  to  sympathize,  gracious  to  forbear, 
gracious  to  pardon,  and  thus  in  a small  way 
resemble  the  God  who  gave  Himself  for  thee? 

This  should  be  your  resolve,  when  about  to 
communicate. 

Resolved  to  obey  God’s  Commandments  in 
all  their  extensiveness,  never  hesitating  in  a 
question  of  duty,  no  matter  how  hard  it  may 
be ; the  duty  of  forgiving  and  forgetting  some 
injustice  or  undeserved  rebuke;  accepting 
cheerfully  a position  contrary  to  your  wishes 
and  inclinations;  application  to  some  labor, 


GOLD  DUST. 


125 


distasteful,  and  seemingly  beyond  your 
strength. 

If  your  duty  seems  almost  impossible  to  ful- 
fil, ask  yourself,  “Is  this  God’s  Will  for  me?” 
and  if  conscience  answers  yes,  then  reply  also, 
I will  do  it. 

All  difficulties  vanish  after  Holy  Commu- 
nion. 

Generous;  depriving  yourself  those  days  of 
Communion,  of  some  pleasures  which  though 
harmless  in  themselves,  you  know,  only  too 
well,  enfeeble  your  devotion,  excite  your  feel- 
ings, and  leave  you  weaker  than  before.  Gen- 
erous means  doing  over  and  above  what  duty 
requires  of  us. 

Conscientious  and  upright;  not  seeking  to 
find  out  if  some  forbidden  thing  is  really  a sin 
or  not,  and  whether  it  may  not  in  some  way 
be  reconciled  to  conscience. 

Oh!  how  hurtful  are  these  waverings  be- 
tween God  and  the  world,  duty  and  pleasure, 
obedience  and  allurements.  Did  Jesus  Christ 
hesitate  to  die  for  you?  and  yet  you  hesitate ! 
Coward ! 

Humble  and  meek;  treading  peacefully  the 
road  marked  out  for  you  by  Providence,  some- 
times weeping,  often  suffering,  but  free  from 
anxiety,  awaiting  the  loving  support  that  never 


126 


GOLD  DUST. 


fails  those  who  trust,  and  renew  their  strength 
day  by  day.  Living  quietly,  loving  neither 
the  world,  nor  its  praise,  working  contentedly 
in  that  state  of  life  to  which  you  are  called, 
doing  good,  regardless  of  man’s  knowledge  and 
approval,  content  that  others  should  be  more 
honored,  more  esteemed,  having  only  one 
ambition;  to  love  God,  and  be  loved  by  Him. 

If  this  be  the  disposition  of  your  soul,  then 
be  sure,  each  communion  will  be  blessed  to  you, 
make  you  more  holy,  more  like  Christ,  with 
more  taste  and  love  for  the  things  of  God, 
more  sure  of  glory  hereafter. 

XVII. 

After  Holy  Communion . 

SELF  SACRIFICE. 

Lord,  take  me,  and  lead  me  whithersoever 
Thou  wiliest! 

Is  it  Thy  will,  that  my  life  be  spent  in  the 
midst  of  such  incessant  toil,  and  tumult,  that 
no  time  is  left  for  those  brief  moments  of 
leisure,  of  which  I sometimes  dream? 

Yes!  yes!  I wish  it  also! 

Is  it  Thy  Will,  that  lonely  and  sorrowful,  I 
am  left  on  earth,  while  those  I loved  have 
gone  to  dwell  near  Thee  above? 

Yes!  yes!  I wish  it  also! 


GOLD  DUST. 


127 


Is  it  Thy  Will,  that  unknown  by  all,  misun- 
derstood even  by  those  whose  affection  I prize, 
I am  looked  upon  as  useless,  on  account  of  my 
stupidity,  want  of  manner,  or  bad  health? 

Yes!  yes!  I wish  it  also! 

Thou  art  Ruler.  Oh!  my  God!  only  be 
Thyself  the  Guide,  and  abide  with  me  forever! 

MY  MEMORY. 

My  Memory!  the  mysterious  book — reflec- 
tion of  that  of  eternity,  in  which  at  each  mo- 
ment are  inscribed,  my  thoughts,  affections, 
and  desires. 

Into  Thy  Hands,  I commend  it,  Lord,  that 
Thou  alone  mayest  write  there,  Thou  alone 
efface ! 

Leave  there,  Lord,  the  remembrance  of  my 
sins,  but  efface  forever  the  pleasures  that  led 
to  them — were  I to  catch  but  a glimpse  of  their 
enticing  sweetness,  I might  again  desire  them. 
Leave  there  the  sweet  memories  of  childhood, 
when  I loved  Thee,  with  such  simplicity,  and 
my  father,  my  mother,  my  family,  were  my 
sole  affections.  Those  days  when  the  slightest 
untruthfulness,  or  even  the  fear  of  having 
sinned,  left  me  no  peace,  till  I had  confessed 
it  to  my  mother.  Those  days,  when  I always 
felt  my  Guardian  Angel  near  me,  helping  me 
in  my  work,  and  soothing  my  little  troubles! 


128 


GOLD  DUST. 


Leave  me  the  remembrance  of  my  first  sense 
of  the  Divine  absolution  when,  my  heart  over- 
flowing with  secret  joy,  I cried,  I am  forgiven, 
I am  forgiven. 

And  then  the  recollection  of  my  first  com- 
munion! oh!  recall  it  to  me,  Lord,  with  its 
preparation  so  fearful,  yet  so  loving;  its  joy, 
so  calm,  so  holy,  yet  so  sweet,  that  even  now, 
the  thought  of  it  fills  mine  eyes  with  tears! 

Leave  me  the  remembrance  of  Thy  Benefits! 
each  year  of  my  life  is  crowned  with  bless- 
ings ...  at  ten  . . . fifteen  . . . eighteen  . . . 
twenty  years  ...  oh ! I can  well  recall  all 
Thy  goodness  to  me,  my  God!  Yes,  receive 
my  memory,  blot  out  all  that  can  estrange  me 
from  Thee,  and  grant,  that  nothing  apart  from 
Thee  may  again  find  a place  there! 

MY  MIND. 

Oh!  by  what  false  lights  have  I been  daz- 
zled ! They  showed  me  prayer  as  wearisome, 
religious  duties  too  absorbing — frequent  Com- 
munion as  useless — social  duties  as  a heavy 
bondage — devotion,  the  lot  of  weak  minds  and 
those  without  affection  . . . Oh!  I knew  well 
how  false  it  was,  and  yet  I let  myself  be  half 
convinced. 

When  have  I ever  been  more  zealous  in  labor, 


GOLD  DUST. 


129 


than  those  days  when  I had  fulfilled  all  my 
religious  duties? 

When,  more  loving  and  devout,  than  on  the 
days  of  my  Communions? 

When  have  I felt  more  free,  more  happy, 
than  when  having  fulfilled  all  the  duties  of  my 
social  position? 

Lord!  receive  my  mind,  and  nourish  it  with 
Thy  Truth! 

Show  me  that  apart  from  Thee,  pleasures  of 
the  senses  leave  behind  only  remorse,  disgust, 
weariness,  and  satiety; 

Pleasures  of  the  heart  cause  anxiety,  bitter- 
ness, rendings,  and  fears; 

Pleasures  of  the  mind  produce  a void,  vanity, 
jealousy,  coldness,  and  humiliations!  Teach 
me  that  all  must  pass  away  . . . that  nothing 
is  true,  nothing  is  good,  nothing  is  eternal, 
but  Thou,  Thou  only,  O my  God. 

MY  WILL. 

My  deeds  are  the  result  of  my  will,  and  it  is 
the  will  only,  that  makes  them  of  any  value. 

Oh!  then  to  begin  with,  I will  learn  submis- 
sion! What  I wish,  may  not  always  be  good 
for  me,  what  I am  bidden  must  be  right. 

O Jesus!  grant  me  the  grace  of  obedience, 
and  then  let  me  be  bidden  many  things:  works 

Gold  Dust.  9 


130 


GOLD  DUST. 


of  piety,  works  -of  charity,  self-renunciation, 
brilliant  deeds,  deeds  that  are  ignored,  in  my 
family  life,  or  wherever  I may  be,  there  are 
numberless  calls  for  all  of  these ; Lord,  behold 
Thy  servant!  may  I be  always  ready,  when 
Thou  hast  need  of  me. 

ALL  THAT  I HAVE. 

My  God,  how  richly  hast  Thou  blessed  me! 
Treasures  of  love,  I offer  them  to  Thee ! I 
have  relations,  dear  ones,  Thou  knowest  how 
I love  them  . . . Ah,  if  it  be  Thy  Will  to  take 
them  from  this  world,  before  me,  though  I say 
it  weeping,  still  I say  it ; Thy  Will  be  done ! 

I have  friends  ...  If  it  be  Thy  Will  they 
should  forget  me,  think  ill  of  me,  leave  me 
alone,  with  that  loneliness  of  heart,  so  bitter 
and  so  keen  ...  I yield  them  to  Thee! 

I have  worldly  goods,  that  give  me  a certain 
degree  of  comfort,  by  affording  me  the  means 
of  helping  others,  poorer  than  myself  . . . 
should  it  be  Thy  Will  to  deprive  me  of  them, 
little  by  little,  till  at  last  I have  only  the  bare 
necessaries  of  life  left  ...  I yield  them  to 
Thee! 

I have  limbs,  that  thou  hast  given  me.  If  it 
be  Thy  Will  that  paralysis  should  fetter  my 
arms,  my  eyes  no  longer  see  the  light,  my 


The  young  Jesus  on  the  way  to  Jerusalem. 

Gold  Dust. 


GOLD  DUST. 


131 


tongue  be  unable  to  articulate,  my  God,  I yield 
them  to  Thee ! 

In  exchange,  grant  me  Thy  Love,  Thy 
Grace,  and  then  . . . nothing  more,  only 
Heaven ! 

O Jesus,  abandoned  by  all  in  the  garden  of 
Gethsemane,  in  need  then  of  comfort  and 
strength ; 

Jesus,  Thou  who  knowest  that  at  this  mo- 
ment there  are  some  on  earth  who  have  no 
strength,  no  comfort,  no  support,  oh!  send  to 
them  some  angel  who  will  give  them  a little 
joy,  a little  peace!  Oh!  if  only  I might  be  that 
messenger!  What  must  I suffer,  Lord? 

If  an  outward  trouble,  or  inward  pain  be 
needful,  to  make  of  me  but  for  one  moment 
a consoling  angel,  to  some  poor  lonely  heart, 
oh!  however  keen  the  pain,  or  bitter  the 
trouble,  I pray  Thee,  grant  it  to  me,  Jesus! 

O Jesus,  in  search  of  lips  to  tell  the  love  Thou 
bearest  for  Thy  children;  lips  to  tell  the  poor 
and  lonely  they  are  not  despised,  the  sinful 
they  are  not  cast  away,  the  timid  they  are  not 
unprotected.  Oh,  Jesus,  grant  that  my  lips 
may  speak  words  of  strength,  love,  comfort, 
and  pardon.  Let  each  day  seem  to  me  wasted, 
that  passes  without  my  having  spoken  of  help 


132 


GOLD  DUST. 


and  sympathy,  without  having  made  some  one 
bless  Thy  Name,  be  it  but  a little  child. 

O Jesus!  so  patient  toward  those  who  wear- 
ied Thee  with  their  importunity  and  ignorance! 
Jesus,  so  long-suffering  in  teaching,  and  await- 
ing the  hour  of  grace ! Jesus,  grant  that  I may 
be  patient  to  listen,  to  teach,  though  over  and 
over  again  I may  have  to  instruct  the  same 
thing.  Grant  me  help,  that  I may  always 
show  a smiling  face,  even  though  the  importu- 
nity of  some  be  keenly  felt,  and  if  through 
physical  weakness  I manifest  ennui  or  weari- 
ness, grant,  O Jesus,  that  I may  speedily  make 
amends  with  loving  words,  for  the  pain  I have 
caused. 

O Jesus!  Who  with  infinite  tact,  didst  await, 
seated  at  the  roadside,  the  opportunity  for 
doing  good,  simply  asking  a small  service  of 
the  poor  Samaritan  woman,  Thou  wouldst  save, 
and  draw  to  Thee. 

O Jesus!  grant  that  I may  feel  and  under- 
stand all  the  pain,  that  timidity,  shyness,  or 
reserve,  keep  buried  within  the  recesses  of  the 
soul.  Grant  me  the  tact  and  discretion  that 
draws  near  without  paining,  that  asks  without 
repulsing,  without  humiliating,  and  thus  en- 
able me  to  bring  peace  and  comfort  to  the 
wounded  heart. 


GOLD  DUST. 


133 


O Jesus!  seeking  some  one  as  faithful  dis- 
penser of  Thy  blessings,  grant  much  to  me, 
that  I may  have  much  to  bestow  on  others. 

Grant  that  my  hands  may  dispense  Thine 
alms,  that  they  may  be  as  Thine,  when  Thou 
didst  wash  the  feet  of  Thine  Apostles,  work- 
ing for  all,  helping  all;  let  me  never  forget, 
that  like  Thee,  I am  placed  on  this  earth  to 
minister,  not  to  be  ministered  unto. 

Grant  that  my  lips  may  speak  comforting 
words  and  give  forth  cheering  smiles,  that  I 
may  be  as  the  well  by  the  roadside,  where  the 
weary  traveler  stoops  to  drink,  as  the  shade 
of  the  tree  whose  branches  laden  with  fruit 
are  extended  over  all  that  pass  beneath. 

O Jesus!  to  Whom  all  Thy  children  are  so 
dear,  and  whatever  they  may  be  Thou  carest 
for  them,  and  rememberest  they  are  the  much 
loved  children  of  God!  Oh!  grant  that  in  all 
my  intercourse  with  others,  I may  only  see, 
love,  and  care  for  their  souls,  that  soul  for 
whom,  O God,  Thou  hast  died,  who  like  my- 
self can  call  Thee  Father,  and  with  whom, 
near  Thee,  I hope  to  dwell,  throughout  the 
ages  of  Eternity. 


THE 


‘LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM” 


CHAPTER  I. 

Caius  Septimus  Cinna  was  a Roman  patri- 
cian. His  youth  was  spent  in  the  legions  and 
in  hard  camp  life.  Later  he  returned  to 
Rome  to  enjoy  glory,  the  delights  of  life,  and 
his  great  but  somewhat  depleted  fortune. 
There  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  life,  indulging 
in  all  the  excesses  which  a great  city  offered. 
He  spent  his  nights  at  feasts  in  magnificent 
suburban  villas.  His  days  were  spent  at  con- 
tests with  sword  masters,  in  discussions  with 
rhetors  in  the  tepidaria,  where  they  argued 
profound  questions,  and  incidentally  talked 
over  the  gossip  of  the  city  and  the  world,  in 
the  circus,  at  races,  or  gladiatorial  contests, 
among  Greek  lute-players,  Thracian  sooth- 
sayers, and  wonderful  dancing-girls  brought 
from  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago. 

Through  his  mother,  who  was  a relative  of 
Lucullus,  eminent  some  years  ago,  he  had  in- 
herited a passion  for  exquisite  dishes.  Upon 
3 


4 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


his  table  were  served  Greek  wines,  oysters 
from  Neapolis,  mice  from  Numidia,  and  locust 
fat  prepared  in  honey  from  Pontus.  Every, 
thing  that  Rome  possessed  Cinna  must  have, 
beginning  with  fish  from  the  Red  Sea  and 
ending  with  white  ptarmigan  from  the  shores 
of  the  Borysthenes.  He  enjoyed  everything 
not  only  as  a soldier  who  revels,  but  also  as  a 
patrician  who  overindulges  in  the  luxuries. 

He  infused  in  himself,  and  perhaps  really 
created  within  himself,  a taste  for  the  beauti- 
ful— for  statues  recovered  from  the  ruins  of 
Corinth,  for  pitchers  from  Attica,  for  Etruscan 
vases,  or  vases  imported  from  foggy  Sericum, 
for  Roman  mosaics,  for  textures  from  the 
Euphrates,  for  Arabian  perfumes,  and  for  all 
those  peculiar  trifles,  which  filled  the  empti- 
ness of  the  patrician  life. 

He  was  able  to  discuss  all  these  things  both 
as  a connoisseur  and  amateur,  with  toothless 
old  men,  who  at  the  table  ornamented  their 
bald  heads  with  wreaths  of  roses,  and  who 
after  feasting,  chewed  the  flowers  of  the  heli- 
otrope to  make  their  breaths  smell  pleasant. 
He  appreciated  the  beauty  of  Cicero’s  ora- 
tions, likewise  the  verses  of  Horace  and  Ovid. 
Being  the  pupil  of  an  Athenian  rhetor,  he 
spoke  Greek  fluently,  he  knew  by  heart  whole 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


chapters  of  the  Iliad,  and  at  the  feasts  he  could 
sing  the  songs  of  Anacreon  until  he  was  too 
hoarse  or  too  intoxicated. 

Through  his  master  and  other  rhetors  he  had 
rubbed  against  philosophy  and  became  famil- 
iar with  it  so  far,  that  he  understood  the  arch- 
itecture of  different  mental  structures  erected 
in  Hellas  and  the  colonies.  He  understood 
just  as  well  that  all  of  them  were  lying  in 
ruins.  He  knew  personally  many  Stoics, 
toward  whom  he  felt  an  aversion,  as  he  con- 
sidered them  a kind  of  political  party,  as  hypo- 
chondriacs, antagonistic  to  a gay  life.  Scep- 
tics were  often  seated  at  his  table,  and 
between  the  courses  were  tearing  down  whole 
systems  and  announcing  with  cups  brimful 
of  wine,  that  delight  is  vanity,  truth  is  some- 
thing unattainable,  and  the  object  of  a sage 
can  be  only  a lifeless  peace. 

All  these  things  resounded  in  his  ears,  with- 
out penetrating  to  the  depths.  He  did  not 
profess  any  principles  and  he  did  not  want 
any.  In  the  nature  of  Cato  he  saw  the  con- 
glomeration of  a great  character,  with  im- 
mense folly.  He  considered  life  a great  sea 
upon  which  the  winds  blew  wherever  they 
happened  to  light.  In  his  eyes  wisdom  was 
the  art  which  directed  the  sails  for  them,  so 


6 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


they  propelled  the  boat.  Besides  this,  he 
valued  the  broad  shoulders,  the  sound  stomach, 
and  the  fine  Roman  head,  with  aquiline  nose 
and  powerful  jaws  which  he  possessed.  He 
was  certain  that  with  these  any  one  could  get 
through  life  in  some  way. 

Without  belonging  to  the  school  of  Sceptics, 
he  was  a living  Sceptic  and  Hedonic  at  the 
same  time,  although  he  knew  that  pleasure 
was  not  happiness.  He  was  not  familiar  with 
the  true  doctrines  of  Epicurus,  for  which 
reason,  he  considered  himself  a true  Epicurean. 
On  the  whole  he  looked  upon  philosophy  as 
mental  gymnastics,  of  just  as  much  use  as 
those  which  sword  masters  taught.  When  the 
disputes  wearied  him  he  went  to  the  circus  to 
gaze  upon  blood. 

He  did  not  believe  in  gods,  neither  in  virtue, 
truth,  nor  happiness.  He  believed  only  in 
omens  and  had  his  own  prejudices;  the  mys- 
terious beliefs  of  the  Orient  excited  his  curi- 
osity. As  long  as  momentary  spleen  did  not 
induce  him  to  cruelty,  he  was  a good  lord  to 
the  slaves.  He  believed  that  life  is  an  ample 
amphora,  the  better  the  quality  of  wine  which 
fills  it,  the  darker  it  is,  therefore  he  endeav- 
ored to  fill  his  own  with  the  best.  He  loved 
no  one,  but  he  liked  many  things  and  among 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


7 


others  his  own  eagle  head  with  magnificent 
skull,  and  his  elegant  patrician  foot.  In  the 
first  years  of  his  revelry  he  liked  to  astonish 
Rome,  and  succeeded  several  times.  After- 
ward, he  became  indifferent  even  for  that. 


8 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


CHAPTER  II. 

In  the  end  he  ruined  himself.  His  creditors 
carried  away  the  remnants  of  his  fortune. 
All  that  remained  to  Cinna  was  weariness,  as 
if  after  hard  labor,  satiety,  and  one  more  very 
unexpected  thing,  namely,  a deep  uneasiness. 
He  had  enjoyed  wealth,  had  enjoyed  love — as 
the  world  at  that  time  understood  it,  had  en- 
joyed the  delights  and  pleasures  of  life,  the 
glory,  and  the  dangers.  He  knew  the  bounds 
of  human  thoughts;  he  had  rubbed  against 
poetry  and  art;  he  could  therefore  judge  that 
he  had  taken  from  life  everything  it  could 
furnish.  Meanwhile  he  had  a feeling  as 
though  he  had  neglected  something — some- 
thing of  the  gravest  importance.  But  he  did 
not  know  what  it  was  and  in  vain  tried  to 
roach  a satisfactory  conclusion.  Frequently 
he  had  endeavored  to  rid  himself  of  these 
thoughts  and  this  uneasiness.  He  tried  to 
persuade  himself  that  there  was  not  and  could 
not  be  anything  more  in  life ; but  then  his 
uneasiness,  in  place  of  diminishing,  grew  to 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


9 


such  an  extent,  that  it  seemed  to  him,  that  he 
worried,  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  all  Rome. 
He  envied  Sceptics,  and  at  the  same  time, 
looked  upon  them  as  fools,  because  they  as- 
serted that  the  void  could  be  perfectly  filled 
with  nothing.  It  was  now  as  though  two  men 
were  within  him;  one  wondered  at  his  own 
uneasiness,  the  other  unwillingly  looked  upon 
it  as  entirely  proper. 

Shortly  after  the  loss  of  his  fortune,  thanks 
to  his  powerful  family  influences,  Cinna  was 
sent  to  Alexandria  to  enter  upon  an  official 
appointment,  partly  in  order  to  build  anew  his 
fortune  in  a rich  country.  His  uneasiness 
boarded  the  ship  with  him  in  Brundisium  and 
accompanied  him  across  the  sea.  In  Alexan- 
dria, Cinna  thought  that  the  duties  of  a new 
office,  new  people,  new  world,  and  new  im- 
pressions would  liberate  him  from  his  intrusive 
companion — but  he  was  disappointed. 

One  month  passed,  then  another — and  like 
the  grain  of  Demeter,  imported  from  Italy, 
sprung  up  still  bolder  in  the  soil  of  the  Delta; 
so  his  uneasiness,  from  a hardy  sprout,  devel- 
oped into  a wide  spreading  cedar,  which  threw 
more  and  more  shade  upon  the  soul  of  Cinna. 

At  first  Cinna  tried  to  relieve  himself  from 
such  a life  as  he  had  led  in  Rome.  Alexandria 


10 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


was  a magnificent  city,  filled  with  Grecian 
women  with  golden  hair  and  fair  complexions, 
which  the  Egyptian  sun  tinted  with  a trans- 
parent amber  gloss.  In  their  arms  he  sought 
relief. 

But  when  even  this  appeared  fruitless,  he 
contemplated  suicide.  Many  of  his  compan- 
ions had  rid  themselves  in  this  way,  of  the 
burdens  of  their  lives,  and  of  even  lighter 
burdens  than  Cinna’s;  often  from  ennui  only, 
from  vanity,  or  from  a lack  of  desire  to  further 
enjoy  life.  When  a slave  held  a sword  dex- 
terously and  strong  enough,  one  moment  was 
sufficient  to  end  everything.  Cinna  grasped 
this  thought,  but  when  almost  ready  to  follow 
it,  a peculiar  dream  prevented  him.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  when  he  was  transported 
across  the  river,  he  observed  upon  the  other 
shore,  his  uneasiness  in  the  form  of  an  ema- 
ciated slave,  who,  bowing  to  him  said:  “I 
preceded  thee  to  receive  thee.  ” 

Cinna  was  frightened  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life;  he  understood  that  as  long  as  he  could 
not  think  of  the  life  beyond  without  uneasi- 
ness, then  they  would  both  go  there. 

Ultimately,  he  resolved  to  approach  the 
sages  who  swarmed  in  the  Serapeum,  judging 
that  among  them,  perhaps  he  would  find  the 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


Ill 


solution  of  the  problem.  Then  though  unable 
to  solve  any  problems  for  him,  they  honored 
him  with  the  title  “of  the  Academy,’ ’ which 
title  was  generally  conferred  upon  Romans  of 
high  birth  and  standing.  Although  this  was  a 
small  satisfaction  and  the  stamp  of  a sage 
bestowed  upon  a man  who  was  unable  himself 
to  answer  the  question  which  interested  him 
most  particularly,  might  appear  as  irony  to 
Cinna — he  supposed  that  perhaps  the  Serapeum 
did  not  unveil  at  once  its  whole  wisdom  and 
he  did  not  lose  all  hope. 

Among  the  sages  of  Alexandria,  the  noble 
Timon,  an  opulent  man  and  a Roman  citizen, 
was  most  active.  He  had  lived  in  Alexandria 
for  several  years,  whither  he  had  come  to 
fathom  the  mysterious  doctrines  of  Egypt.  It 
was  said  of  him  that  there  was  not  a single 
pergamiene  or  papyrus  in  the  library,  which 
he  had  not  read  and  that  he  possessed  their 
combined  wisdom.  He  was  also  an  affable 
and  indulgent  man.  From  among  the  multi- 
tude of  pedants  and  commentators  with  dull 
brains,  Cinna  recognized  him  at  once  and 
shortly  contracted  an  acquaintance  with  him 
which  soon  ripened  into  intimacy,  and  even 
friendship.  The  young  Roman  admired  his 
ability  in  dialectics,  his  elocution  and  the 


12 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


ability  with  which  the  old  man  discussed  the 
sublime  questions,  pertaining  to  the  destiny 
of  man  or  the  world.  He  was  especially 
struck  that  with  his  reflection  was  combined  a 
certain  sadness.  After  becoming  more  inti- 
mate, Cinna  often  desired  to  ask  the  old  sage 
the  reason  for  that  sadness,  and  also  to  open 
to  him  his  own  heart.  And  it  Anally  came  to 
this. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


13 


CHAPTER  III. 

One  evening  when,  after  a heated  discussion 
pertaining  to  the  transmigration  of  souls,  they 
were  left  alone  upon  the  terrace,  which  gave 
an  open  view  to  the  sea, — Cinna  took  the 
hand  of  Timon,  and  openly  confessed  to  him 
what  the  gravest  burden  of  his  life  was,  and 
why  he  had  tried  to  draw  nearer  to  the  sages 
and  philosophers  of  the  Serapeum. 

“So  much  at  least  have  I learned,0  said  he 
at  last,  “that  I know  thee,  Timon,  and  I do 
feel,  that  if  thou  canst  not  solve  the  enigma 
of  my  life,  no  one  else  can.  ” 

Timon  gazed  for  some  time  at  the  placid 
depths  of  the  sea,  in  which  the  crescent  of  the 
new  moon  was  reflected,  then  said : 

“Didst  thou  even  see  here,  Cinna,  those 
flocks  of  birds,  which  in  winter  migrate  from 
the  gloom  of  the  north?  Dost  thou  know 
what  they  seek  in  Egypt?” 

“Yes,  they  seek  warmth  and  light.” 
“Human  souls  are  also  seeking  warmth, 
which  is  love,  and  light,  which  signifies  truth. 


14 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


The  birds  know  where  to  seek  their  own  good, 
but  the  souls  of  men  wander  on  in  pathless 
tracts,  in  mistakes,  in  sorrows,  and  disquiet/* 
“Noble  Timon,  tell  me  why  they  cannot  find 
their  path.  “ 

“Hitherto  rest  was  in  gods;  to-day  belief  in 
gods  is  burnt  out  just  like  oil  in  the  lamp.  Then 
they  expected  that  philosophy  would  be  to 
souls  the  sun  of  truth.  To-day,  as  thou 
knowest  best,  on  its  ruins  in  Rome,  in  the 
Academy  at  Athens,  and  here,  sit  Sceptics 
who  believed  that  they  brought  us  peace,  but 
they  brought  us  only  uneasiness.  For  to 
renounce  light  and  warmth,  is  to  leave  souls  in 
darkness,  which  is  uneasiness.  Then  extend- 
ing our  hands  before  us  we  grope  along  in 
darkness,  seeking  an  exit.'* 

“And  hast  thou  not  found  it?** 

“I  sought,  but  did  not  find.  Thou  looked 
for  it  in  joys,  I in  meditation,  and  the  same 
mist  surrounds  us  both.  Know,  then,  that 
not  thou  alone  art  tortured,  but  in  thee  the 
soul  of  the  world  is  tormented.  Thou  hast 
certainly  not  believed  in  gods  this  long  time.** 
“In  Rome  they  are  yet  worshiped  publicly, 
and  even  new  ones  are  brought  from  Asia  and 
Egypt,  but  perhaps  only  the  sellers  of  vege- 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


15 


tables,  who  come  into  the  city  from  the 
country  of  mornings,  truly  believe  in  them.” 
“And.  these  are  the  only  ones  in  peace.” 
“Just  the  same  as  those  who  bow  down  here 
to  cats  and  onions.” 

“Jus£  the  same  as  those,  who,  like  well  fed 
animals,  do  not  desire  anything  but  sleep  after 
eating.  ” 

“But  is  life  worth  living  in  view  of  this?” 
“Do  we  know  what  death  will  bring  us?” 
“Then  what  is  the  difference  between  thee 
and  a Sceptic?” 

“Sceptics  are  content  in  this  darkness,  or 
pretend  to  be,  while  I am  tortured  in  it.  * * 
“And  seest  thou  not  any  deliverance?” 
Timon  remained  silent  for  a moment,  then 
answered  slowly  as  with  a certain  hesitation: 

“I  wait  for  it.  ” 

“From  whence?” 

“I  do  not  know.” 

Then  leaning  his  head  upon  his  hand,  and 
as  if  under  the  influence  of  the  tranquillity 
which  prevailed  upon  the  terraces,  he  spoke 
in  a low  voice : 

“It  is  a strange  thing,  but  sometimes  it 
seems  to  me,  that  if  the  world  contained  noth- 
ing else  beyond  that  which  we  know,  and  if 
we  could  not  be  anything  more  than  we  are, 


16 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


there  would  not  be  in  us  that  uneasiness. 
So  in  sickness  I draw  upon  the  hope  of  health. 
The  beliefs  in  Olympus  and  philosophy  are 
dead,  but  health  may  be  in  some  new  truth, 
unknown  to  me.” 

* * * * * * 

Unexpectedly  this  discourse  brought  great 
relief  to  Cinna.  After  hearing  that  not  only 
he  was  sick,  he  experienced  a feeling  as  if 
someone  had  removed  from  him  a heavy  bur- 
den, and  placed  it  upon  the  shoulders  of  thou- 
sands. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


17 


CHAPTER  IV. 

From  that  time  the  friendship  uniting  Cinna 
and  the  old  Greek  became  still  closer.  They 
visited  each  other  quite  often  and  exchanged 
their  ideas  as  bread  is  exchanged  at  feasts. 
After  all,  Cinna,  notwithstanding  his  expe- 
riences and  the  weariness  which  follow  pleas- 
ure, he  was  still  young  enough  to  appreciate  a 
charm  unknown  to  him;  and  just  such  a charm 
he  found  in  Timon’s  only  daughter,  Antea. 

Her  fame  in  Alexandria  was  not  less  than 
the  fame  of  her  father.  She  was  adored  by 
eminent  Romans  visiting  the  house  of  Timon, 
by  Greeks,  by  philosophers  of  the  Serapeum, 
and  by  the  masses.  Timon  did  not  restrict 
her  to  the  gyneceum  as  other  women  were,  but 
endeavored  to  transf  use  in  her  everything  that 
he  knew  himself. 

After  childhood  years  had  passed,  he  read 
with  her  Greek,  and  even  Roman  and  Hebrew 
books.  Antea,  endowed  with  an  extraordi- 
nary memory,  and  brought  up  in  classic  Alex- 
andria, learned  fluently,  these  languages.  She 

2 Follow  Him 


18 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


was  a companion  to  her  father  in  his  thoughts, 
and  took  part  frequently  in  the  disputes  which 
were  held  at  symposiums  in  the  house  of 
Timon.  Very  often  in  the  labyrinth  of  ab- 
struse problems,  like  Ariadne,  Antea  knew 
how  to  keep  from  going  astray  and  how  to 
liberate  others.  Her  father  worshiped  and 
honored  her.  Besides,  she  was  surrounded  by 
the  charms  of  mystery  and  even  of  sanctity, 
as  she  had  foreboding  dreams,  in  which  she 
saw  things  invisible  to  the  eyes  of  common 
mortals.  The  old  sage  loved  her  as  much  as 
his  own  soul,  and  the  more  for  the  reason  that 
he  was  afraid  he  might  lose  her;  for  she  told 
him  that  frequently  in  her  dreams  there  ap- 
peared some  ill-omened  beings,  also  a mysteri- 
ous light,  and  she  did  not  know  whether  this 
meant  a source  of  life  or  death. 

Meanwhile  she  was  surrounded  by  love 
only.  Egyptians,  who  visited  the  house  of 
Timon,  called  her  Lotus,  perhaps  because  this 
flower  received  the  worship  of  Gods  on  the 
shores  of  the  Nile,  and  perhaps  also,  because 
whoever  saw  her  once,  could  forget  the  whole 
world. 

Her  beauty  equaled  her  wisdom.  The 
Egyptian  sun  did  not  darken  her  face,  in  which 
the  rosy  rays  of  dawn  seemed  to  be  enclosed 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


19 


in  the  transparency  of  the  pearl  shell.  Her 
eyes  had  the  blueness  of  the  Nile,  and  her  look 
flowed  from  unknown  depths  like  the  waters 
of  this  mysterious  river.  When  Cinna  returned 
home  after  having  seen  and  heard  her  for  the 
first  time,  he  felt  the  desire  to  erect  an  altar 
in  her  honor  in  the  atrium  of  his  house,  and 
offer  upon  it  white  doves.  He  had  met,  in  his 
life,  thousands  of  women,  beginning  with 
maidens  of  the  far  north,  with  white  eyebrows 
and  hair  the  color  of  ripe  grain,  and  ending 
with  Numidian  women  black  as  lava;  but 
never  before  had  he  met  such  a figure  or  such 
a soul.  The  oftener  they  met,  the  better  he 
knew  her;  the  oftener  he  had  the  chance  to 
listen  to  her  words,  the  greater  grew  his 
adoration.  He,  who  did  not  believe  in  gods, 
supposed  at  some  moments  that  Antea  could 
not  be  the  daughter  of  Timon,  but  a daughter 
of  some  god,  wherefor  only  half  woman  and 
half  immortal. 

And  soon  he  worshiped  her  with  an  unex- 
pected, powerful, and  irresistible  love,  as  differ- 
ent from  the  feelings  he  hitherto  had  felt,  as 
Antea  was  different  from  other  women.  He 
desired  to  possess  her,  only  to  adore  her.  He 
was  willing  to  give  his  blood  to  possess  her. 
He  felt  that  he  would  prefer  to  be  a beggar 


20 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


with  her,  than  a Caesar  without  her.  As  the 
whirlpool  of  the  sea  carries  away,  with  unre- 
strained power  whatever  lies  in  its  path,  so 
China’s  love  overpowered  his  soul,  heart, 
thoughts,  his  days,  and  nights,  and  everything 
which  composes  life. 

Till  at  last  his  love  carried  away  Antea. 

“Thou  art  happy,  Cinna!”  his  friends  said 
to  him. 

“Thou  art  happy,  Cinna!”  he  repeated  to 
himself;  and  when  at  last  he  married  her, 
when  her  divine  lips  pronounced  the  divine 
words,  “Where  thou  art,  Caius,  there  am  I 
also,”  it  seemed  to  him  that  his  happiness  was 
like  the  sea,  inexhaustible  and  boundless 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


21 


CHAPTER  V. 

One  year  passed,  and  in  her  home  the  young 
wife  received  the  worship  almost  of  a goddess. 
She  was  to  her  husband  the  light  of  his  eyes. 
She  was  to  him  love,  wisdom,  and  life. 

But  Cinna,  when  comparing  his  happiness  to 
the  sea,  forgot  that  the  sea  has  its  ebbs.  After 
one  year  Antea  was  stricken  with  a terrible 
and  unknown  sickness.  Her  dreams  changed 
into  homble  visions,  which  sapped  away  her 
life.  In  her  face  the  rays  of  light  were  extin- 
guished, leaving  only  the  pale  clearness  of  the 
pearl  shell.  Her  hands  became  almost  trans- 
parent, her  eyes  sunk  deep  into  her  head,  and 
the  rosy  lotus  became  paler  and  paler,  until  it 
resembled  a face  of  the  dead.  Hawks  were 
seen  hovering  over  the  house  of  Cinna,  which 
hin  Egypt  was  considered  a bad  omen.  These 
visions  became  more  and  more  horrible. 
When  at  midday  hours  the  rays  of  the  sun 
flowed  over  the  world,  with  a white  glare, 
and  the  city  was  buried  in  silence,  it  seemed 
to  Antea  that  she  heard  around  her  the  quick 


22 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


footsteps  of  some  invisible  beings,  and  that 
she  saw  in  the  depths  of  the  atmosphere  a dry 
and  yellow  face,  like  that  of  a corpse,  casting 
its  black  eyes  upon  her.  These  eyes  stared 
at  her  steadily,  as  if  beckoning  her  to  go  some- 
where, into  some  unknown  darkness  full  of 
mysteries  and  fear. 

Then  Antea’s  body  trembled  as  if  stricken 
with  fever;  her  forehead  was  covered  with 
pallor  and  drops  of  cold  sweat.  Then  that 
worshiped  priestess  of  the  domicile  became  a 
defenseless  and  terrified  child,  who,  throwing 
herself  upon  the  breast  of  her  husband,  ex- 
claimed with  whitened  lips,  “Save  me,  Caius! 
Defend  me!” 

And  Caius  would  have  thrown  himself  upon 
any  phantom  which  Persephone  could  let  loose 
from  beneath  the  ground,  but  in  vain  did  he 
penetrate  the  expanse  with  his  eyes.  All 
around,  as  usual,  at  midday  hours  complete 
tranquillity  reigned.  The  sun  shone  down  up- 
on the  city.  The  sea  seemed  to  burn  in  it,  and 
in  the  deep  quiet  was  heard  only  the  scream- 
ing of  the  hawks  soaring  above  the  house. 

The  visions  became  more  frequent;  after  a 
while  they  appeared  daily.  Antea  was  perse- 
cuted by  them  out  of  doors,  just  as  much  as 
within  the  atrium  and  her  own  rooms.  Cinna, 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


23 


following  the  advice  of  physicians,  brought  in 
Egyptian  sambucients,  and  Bedouins  playing 
upon  earthen  reeds,  who  with  noisy  music,  were 
supposed  to  deafen  the  sounds  of  those  invisi- 
ble beings.  All  of  these  things  were  of  no 
avail.  Antea  could  hear  those  sounds  in  the 
greatest  tumult ; when  the  sun  stood  so  high 
that  the  shadow  laid  at  the  feet  of  man,  like 
a garment  falling  from  the  shoulders,  then  in 
the  air,  vibrating  from  the  heat,  appeared  the 
corpse-like  face,  and  gazing  at  Antea  with  its 
glassy  eyes,  slowly  receded,  as  if  wishing  to 
say  to  her,  “Follow  me!” 

Sometimes  it  appeared  to  Antea,  as  if  the 
mouth  of  the  corpse  moved  slowly ; sometimes 
again,  as  if  repulsive  black  beetles  crawled 
from  its  mouth  and  flew  toward  her  through 
the  air.  At  the  very  thought  of  these  visions 
her  eyes  were  filled  with  terror.  Finally  her 
life  became  such  a horrible  torment,  that  she 
implored  Cinna  to  hold  the  sword,  that  she 
might  cast  herself  upon  it,  or  to  allow  her  to 
drink  poison. 

But  he  knew  that  he  was  unable  to  do  this. 
With  the  same  sword  he  was  willing  to  open 
his  own  veins  for  her  sake,  but  he  could  not 
kill  her.  When  he  even  thought  of  that  dear 
head  lifeless,  with  closed  lids,  with  frozen 


24 


LET  VS  FOLLOW  HIM. 


peace  upon  the  face  and  that  breast  opened 
witl^his  sword,  then  he  felt  that  before  he 
could  do  this,  he  must  go  mad. 

He  was  told  by  a certain  Greek  physician, 
that  is  was  Hecate  who  appeared  to  Antea,  and 
that  those  invisible  beings,  whose  noise  fright- 
ened her,  belonged  to  the  retinue  of  an  ill- 
omened  god.  According  to  his  idea,  Antea 
was  beyond  salvation,  for  anyone  having 
once  seen  Hecate  must  die. 

Then  Cinna,  who  but  a short  time  ago  would 
have  laughed  at  the  belief  in  Hecate,  now 
offered  her  a hecatomb.  But  this  offering  was 
of  no  avail ; the  next  day  the  ill-omened  eyes 
gazed  at  Antea  again  at  midday.  They  tried 
covering  her  head,  but  she  saw  plainly  that 
corpse-like  face  even  through  the  thickest 
mantles.  Even  when  she  was  closed  within  a 
dark  room,  that  face  gazed  at  her  from  the 
walls,  enlightening  the  darkness  with  its 
white,  corpse-like  gleam. 

In  the  evening  the  sick  woman  would  feel 
better.  Then  she  would  fall  into  such  a deep 
sleep,  that  often  it  seemed  to  Cinna  and  to 
Timon  that  she  would  never  awaken.  Soon 
she  became  so  weakened  that  she  was  unable 
to  walk  with  her  own  strength.  They  carried 
her  in  a litter. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


25 


The  former  uneasiness  of  Cinna  returned 
with  a hundred-fold  might,  and  completely 
overpowered  him.  In  this  uneasiness  was 
the  fear  of  Antea’s  death,  but  there  was  also 
a strange  persuasion  that  her  sickness  was 
in  some  mysterious  manner  related  to  all  that 
of  which  Cinna  had  spoken  with  Timon  in  that 
first  discussion.  Maybe  the  old  sage  thought 
the  same  way,  but  Cinna  did  not  like  to  ask 
him ; in  fact,  he  feared  to.  In  the  meantime 
the  sick  woman  faded  like  a flower,  in  whose 
calyx  a poisonous  spider  nestles. 

But  in  spite  of  his  lack  of  hope,  Cinna  tried 
desperately  to  save  her.  First  he  went  with 
her  to  the  deserts  near  Memphis,  but  when  a 
sojourn  in  the  tranquillity  of  the  pyramids  did 
not  liberate  her  from  those  terrible  visions,  he 
brought  her  back  to  Alexandria,  where  he 
surrounded  her  with  sooth-sayers,  conjurers, 
enchanters,  and  with  various  kinds  of  impudent 
bands,  which  by  administering  mysterious 
medicines,  profited  by  human  credulity.  But 
Cinna  had  no  choice  left,  therefore  he  caught 
at  the  least  chance. 

About  this  time  the  celebrated  Hebrew  phy- 
sician, Joseph,  son  of  Khuza,  came  to  Alexan- 
dria from  Caesarea.  Cinna  called  him  imme- 
diately to  his  wife,  and  for  the  moment  hope 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


returned  to  his  breast.  Joseph  believed  not 
in  Roman  nor  Greek  gods,  and  he  refuted  with 
contempt  the  belief  in  Hecate.  He  believed 
rather,  that  demons  possessed  the  sick  woman, 
and  advised  her  to  leave  Egypt,  where  be- 
sides demons,  the  noxious  vapors  arising  from 
the  swampy  Delta,  might  injure  her  health. 
He  advised  her  also,  perhaps  for  the  reason 
that  he  was  a Hebrew  himself,  to  go  to  Jeru- 
salem, a city  into  which  demons  are  not  ad- 
mitted, and  where  the  air  is  dry  and  healthful. 
Cinna  willingly  followed  his  advice;  first, 
because  he  saw  no  ether  remedy,  and  second, 
Jerusalem  was  governed  by  a procurator,  well 
known  to  him,  and  whose  ancestors  were  at 
one  time  clients  of  the  house  of  Cinna. 

When  they  arrived  at  Jerusalem,  the  procu- 
rator, Pontius,  received  them  with  open  arms, 
and  gave  them  as  a residence,  his  own  summer 
villa,  situated  near  the  walls  of  the  city.  But 
even  before  their  arrival  Cinna’s  hope  was 
frustrated.  The  corpse-like  face  gazed  at 
Antea  even  from  the  deck  of  the  galley.  After 
arriving  at  the  destination,  the  poor  woman 
dreaded  the  midday  with  the  same  fear  as  she 
had  before  at  Alexandria. 

And  so  they  spent  their  days  in  depression, 
fear,  despair,  and  awaiting  death. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


27 


CHAPTER  VI. 

In  the  atrium,  notwithstanding  the  flowing 
fountain,  the  shady  porch,  and  the  early  hour, 
it  was  unbearably  hot.  The  marble  reflected 
the  heat  from  the  spring  sun,  but  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  house  a large,  old,  and  wide- 
spreading  pistachio-tree  threw  its  welcome 
shade  over  a considerable  tract  round  about. 
The  breeze  there  was  also  far  greater,  as  the 
place  was  open ; therefore  Cinna  gave  order 
to  carry  hither  the  litter,  adorned  with  hya- 
cinths and  apple-blossoms  upon  which  Antea 
reposed. 

After  seating  beside  her  he  gently  laid  his 
palm  upon  her  hands,  pale  as  alabaster,  and 
asked : 

“Art  thou  satisfied  here,  carrissima?” 

“Yes,  satisfied/*  she  answered,  in  a scarcely 
audible  voice. 

Then  she  closed  her  eyes  as  if  overcome  by 
sleep.  Silence  reigned;  only  the  breeze 
rustled  the  leaves  of  the  pistachio-tree,  and 
upon  the  ground  around  the  litter,  glittered 


28 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


golden  spots  of  sun-light,  which  sifted  be- 
tween /he  leaves,  locusts  drowsily  hummed 
among  the  rocks. 

After  a short  time  the  sick  woman  opened 
her  eyes. 

“Caius,”  said  she,  “is  it  true  that  in  this 
country,  there  has  appeared  a philosopher, 
who  heals  the  sick?” 

“Here  such  men  are  called  prophets/' 
answered  Cinna.  “I  have  heard  of  him  and 
desired  greatly  to  call  him  to  thee,  but  it 
proved  to  be  that  he  was  only  a false  per- 
former of  miracles.  He  also  blasphemed 
against  the  local  temple  and  the  faith  of  this 
country:  therefore  the  procurator  delivered 
him  up  to  death,  and  this  very  day  he  will  be 
crucified/’ 

Antea  lowered  her  head. 

“Thy  cure  will  come  with  time,”  said  Cinna, 
noticing  the  deep  sorrow,  which  was  reflected 
upon  her  face. 

“Time  is  in  the  service  of  death,  not  of  life/' 
she  answered,  meditatively. 

And  again  silence  followed.  Round  about 
the  ever-changing  golden  spots  glittered.  The 
locusts  hummed  more  loudly,  and  from  the 
crevices  of  the  rocky  cliff,  one  after  another, 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


29 


little  lizards  crawled  out  upon  the  rocks,  seek- 
ing the  sunny  places. 

Cinna  looked  now  and  then  at  Antea,  and 
for  the  thousandth  time,  his  mind  was  filled 
with  despairing  thoughts,  for  he  knew  that 
every  means  of  salvation  was  now  spent,  that 
there  was  not  one  ray  of  hope,  and  that  before 
long  that  dear  form  would  become  only  a van- 
ishing shadow  and  a handful  of  dust  in  a 
columbarium. 

Even  now,  lying  there  with  closed  eyes,  upon 
the  litter  adorned  with  flowers,  she  looked  like 
dead. 

“And  I will  soon  follow  thee!”  repeated 
Cinna  in  the  depths  of  soul. 

All  at  once  in  the  distance  footsteps  were 
heard  approaching.  The  paleness  of  chalk 
immediately  settled  upon  the  face  of  Antea; 
her  half-open  lips  showed  hurried  breathing; 
her  breast  rose  and  fell  in  rapid  motion.  The 
unfortunate  martyr  felt  certain  that  the  retinue 
of  invisible  beings  which  heralded  the  approach 
of  the  corpse  with  the  glassy  eyes,  was  now 
coming  toward  her.  But  Cinna  grasped  her 
hands  and  endeavored  to  calm  her  agitation. 

“Antea,  do  not  fear,  for  I too  hear  those 
footsteps. “ And  after  a moment  he  added: 

“That  is  Pontius,  coming  to  greet  us.  ” 


30 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


Indeed  at  the  turn  of  the  path,  the  procura- 
tor, accompanied  by  two  slaves,  now  came  into 
view.  He  was  a man  of  middle  age;  his  face 
was  oval,  smooth,  and  carefully  shaven,  full  of 
artificial  dignity,  and  at  the  same  time,  showed 
care  and  weariness. 

“A  greeting  to  thee,  most  noble  Cinna,  and 
to  thee,  divine  Antea,  ” he  said,  approaching 
the  pistachio- tree.  “Behold,  after  a cold 
night,  the  day  has  become  scorching.  May  it 
prove  favorable  to  you  both,  and  may  the 
health  of  Antea  bloom  like  the  hyacinths  and 
the  branches  of  apple-blossoms  which  adorn  her 
litter.  ” 

“Peace  be  with  thee,  and  I bid  thee  wel- 
come,’' answered  Cinna. 

The  procurator  seated  himself  upon  a stone, 
looked  at  Antea,  and  knitting  his  brows  imper- 
ceptibly, give  utterance  to  these  words: 

“Solitude  gives  birth  to  sorrow  and  sickness, 
and  among  the  multitudes  there  is  no  room  for 
fear,  so  I will  give  thee  one  advice.  Unhappily 
this  is  not  Antioch  nor  Caesaria;  we  have  here 
neither  races  nor  combats,  and  should  a circus 
appear  here,  these  enthusiasts  would  destroy 
it  the  following  day.  Here  thou  hearest  only 
one  word:  ‘Faith,*  and  it  seems  to  me  that 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


31 


everything  stands  in  the  way  of  this  ‘Faith/ 

I would  prefer  to  be  in  Scythia,  than  here.” 

“What  do  you  mean,  Pilate?” 

“Indeed,  I confess  I have  departed  too  far 
from  the  subject.  Those  cares  are  responsible 
for  my  wandering.  I said  that  among  the 
multitudes  there  is  no  room  for  fear.  Look 
now,  you  may  have  a spectacle  here  to-day.  A 
man  should  be  satisfied  with  almost  anything 
here  in  Jerusalem,  but  before  all  it  is  necessary 
that  Antea  be  among  the  crowds  at  midday. 
To-day  three  men  will  die  upon  the  cross. 
This  is  certainly  better  than  nothing.  * Besides, 
on  account  of  the  Passover,  a most  wonderful 
crowd  of  various  kinds  of  rogues  from  all  over 
the  country,  has  ^flooded  the  city.  Ye  may 
have  a good  chance  to  look  upon  these  crowds, 
for  I shall  see  that  ye  have  fine  places  near 
the  crosses.  I hope  that  the  condemned  will 
meet  death  with  courage.  One  of  them,  a 
strange  man,  pretends  to  be  the  Son  of  God. 
He  is  as  mild  as  a dove  and  in  fact  he  did  not 
commit  any  act  worthy  of  the  death  penalty.  ” 

“And  hast  thou  condemned  him  to  die  upon 
the  cross?” 

“I  wished  to  evade  trouble  and  besides  did 
not  care  to  disturb  the  nest  of  hornets  buzzing 
around  tho  temple.  They  sent  complaints 


32 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


against  me  to  Rome,  all  the  time — and  after 
all,  in  this  case,  it  was  not  a question  of  a 
Roman  citizen/* 

“But  that  is  no  reason  that  this  man  would 
suffer  less.** 

The  procurator  did  not  reply  . . . After 
awhile  he  began  to  speak,  as  if  talking  to  him- 
self: 

“There  is  one  thing  I cannot  bear,  and  that 
is  exaggeration.  Anyone  who  pronounces  that 
word  in  my  presence,  deprives  me  of  my  good 
humor  for  all  day.  The  golden  mean!  Pru- 
dence advises  us  to  act  thus  only,  according  to 
my  judgment.  And  there  is  not  a single  cor- 
ner in  this  world,  where  this  principle  would 
have  r less  ^followers  than  here.  O,  how  all 
these  things  torture  me!  how  they  torture  me! 
. . . No  quiet  any  place,  no  balance  any- 
where, neither  among  the  people,  'nor  in 
nature.  Now,  for  instance,  spring  is  here,  we 
have  cool  nights,  and  during  the  day  comes 
such  heat,  that  it  is  impossible  to  step  upon 
the  stones. 

“Midday  is  still  far  off,  and  look — what  u 
going  on!  In  regard  to  the  people — it  is  best 
not  to  speak.  I am  here,  because  I have  t^ 
be.  But  never  mind  all  this!  I would  again 
wander  from  the  subject.  Go  and  see  the 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


35 


crucifixion.  I am  certain  that  the  Nazarene 
will  die  bravely.  I gave  orders  to  whip  him, 
thinking  thus  to  save  him  from  death.  My 
nature  is  not  cruel.  While  they  flogged  him, 
he  was  meek  as  a lamb  and  even  blessed  the 
men.  When  blood  flowed  from  his  wounds, 
he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  prayed.  This  is  the 
most  wonderful  man  I ever  saw  in  my  life. 
On  his  account  my  wife  did  not  leave  me  in 
peace  for  a moment.  ‘Do  not  allow  the  death 
of  an  innocent  man!*  this  is  what  she  has 
repeated  to  me  constantly  since  dawn.  And  I 
desired  to  prevent  his  death.  Twice  I ascended 
the  bema  and  addressed  those  infuriated  priests 
and  that  scabby  rabble.  And  they  answered 
me  with  one  voice,  with  their  heads  thrown 
backward,  and  their  jaws  open  to  the  ears, 
‘Crucify  him!’  ” 

“And  thou  hast  yielded  to  them?”  asked 
Cinna. 

“Yes,  because  there  would  be  a riot  in  the 
city,  and  my  mission  here  is  to  preserve  peace. 
I must  fulfill  my  duties.  I hate  exaggeration, 
and,  besides,  I feel  mortally  tired,  but  when  I 
undertake  anything,  I do  not  hesitate,  foi  the 
public  good,  to  sacrifice  the  life  of  a single 
man,  and  especially  the  life  of  an  unknown 
man,  in  whose  behalf  no  one  would  care  to 
8 Follow  Him 


34 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


appear.  So  much  the  worse  for  him  that  be  is 
not  a Roman/’ 

“Not  only  upon  Rome  does  the  sun  shine,’* 
murmured  Antea. 

“Divine  Antea,*’  answered  the  procurator, 
“I  could  answer  thee,  that  on  the  whole  sphere 
of  the  earth  the  sun  shines  on  Roman  power, 
therefore  for  its  good  everything  should  be 
sacrificed,  and  all  disturbances  undermine  our 
dignity.  But,  above  all  I pray  thee  do  not 
demand  of  me  that  the  sentence  be  changed. 
Cinna,  also,  will  assure  thee,  that  this  is  im- 
possible, for  after  the  sentence  is  once  pro- 
nounced, Caesar  is  the  only  one  who  can 
change  it.  I cannot,  even  though  I would  like 
to  do  so.  Is  this  not  true,  Caius?’’ 

“Yes,  *tis  true.” 

But  these  words  evidently  hurt  Antea,  for 
she  said,  thinking,  perhaps,  of  her  own  case: 
“So  it  is  possible  that  one  may  suffer  and 
die,  being  innocent?’*  • 

“No  one  is  entirely  free  from  guilt,*’ 
answered  Pontius.  ‘That  Nazarene  did  not 
commit  any  crime,  therefore  I,  as  a procurator, 
washed  my  hands,  but  as  a man,  I condemn 
his  doctrine.  I talked  with  him  for  some  time 
in  order  to  examine  him,  and  I came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  preaches  unheard  of  things. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


35 


This  state  of  things  in  difficult!  The  world 
must  be  founded  upon  sound  reason.  Who 
denies  that  virtue  is  necessary?  Certainly,  not 
I!  Even  the  Stoics  say  that  we  shall  bear 
adversity  with  serenity,  but  they  do  not  expect 
that  we  shall  deprive  ourselves  of  everything, 
beginning  with  our  fortunes  and  ending  with 
our  meals. 

“Say,  Cinna — thou  art  a sensible  man — what 
would&t  thou  think  of  me,  if  I should,  without 
any  provocation,  give  this  house,  in  which 
thou  art  now  living,  to  those  ruffians  who  warm 
themselves  in  the  sunlight  at  the  Joppa  portal? 
And  such  are  the  things  he  demands. 

“Besides  this,  he  announces  that  we  shall 
love  all  men  equally;  Hebrews  just  as  much 
as  the  Romans,  Romans  just  as  much  as 
Egyptians,  Egyptians  just  as  much  as  Africans, 
and  so  forth.  I declare  I had  enough  of  it. 

“At  the  moment  when  there  is  a question  of 
his  life,  he  acts  as  if  it  did  not  concern  him  in 
the  least;  he  preaches  and  prays.  It  is  no 
duty  of  mine  to  save  anyone,  who  himself  does 
not  care  to  be  saved.  Any  man  who  does  not 
know  how  to  keep  measure  in  everything,  is 
not  a prudent  man.  Besides,  he  styles  himself 
the  Son  of  God,  therefore  he  destroys  the 
principles  upon  which  this  world  stands,  ana 


36 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


he  injures  in  this  way,  the  interests  of  the 
people.  Let  him  think,  in  his  soul,  whatever 
he  wishes,  but  he  must  not  dare  to  disturb  the 
minds  of  others.  As  a man,  I protest  against 
his  doctrines.  Suppose  I do  not  believe  in  the 
gods,  this  is  my  business.  But  I acknowledge 
the  necessity  of  faith,  and  1 say  so  publicly, 
because  I am  convinced  that  religion  is  a curb 
on  the  people.  Horses  must  be  harnessed, 
and  harnessed  well.  After  all,  to  that  Nazar- 
ene,  death  cannot  be  a terrible  thing;  for  he 
affirms  that  he  shall  rise  from  the  dead.  99 

Cinna  and  Antea  gazed  at  each  other  in 
surprise. 

“That  he  will  rise  from  the  dead?” 

“After  three  days  exactly.  At  least  this  is 
what  his  followers  say.  I neglected  to  ask 
him  in  regard  to  this.  After  all,  this  matters 
not,  for  death  frees  one  from  all  promises. 
And  in  case  he  does  not  rise  from  the  dead,  he 
will  not  lose  anything,  for,  according  to  his 
teachings,  true  happiness,  with  an  eternal  life, 
begins  only  after  death.  He  asserts  this 
indeed,  as  if  he  were  entirely  confident  of  it. 
In  his  Heaven  there  is  more  light,  than  under 
the  sun.  And  whoever  suffers  more  here, 
shall  enter  there  more  surely.  He  shall  only 
love,  love,  and  love.  ” 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


31 


“A  strange  doctrine/ ’ said  Antea. 

“And  they  called  upon  thee  to  crucify  him?” 
asked  Cinna. 

“And  I do  not  wonder,  after  all.  The  soul 
of  the  people  is  hate,  and  hate  very  properly 
shall  demand  the  cross  for  love.” 

Antea  passed  her  thin  hand  over  her  fore- 
head. 

“Is  he  really  certain  that  anyone  can  live  and 
feel  happy  after  death?” 

“That  is  the  reason  that  neither  the  cross 
nor  death  have  any  terrors  for  him.” 

“How  good  that  would  be,  Cinna!” 
Afterwhile  she  asked  again: 

“How  does  he  know  this?” 

The  procurator  waved  his  hand  and  said: 
“He  claims  to  know  it  from  the  Father  of 
all  men,  who  for  the  Hebrews  is  as  much,  as 
Jupiter  for  us,  only  with  this  difference,  that 
according  to  the  Nazarene,  He  is  one  and  all 
merciful.” 

“Oh,  how  good  it  would  be!”  repeated 
Antea. 

Cinna  opened  his  mouth,  as  though  to  reply, 
but  kept  silent,  and  the  discussion  ceased. 

Evidently  Pontius  was  considering  further 
the  wonderful  teachings  of  the  Nazarene;  he 


38 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


continually  shook  his  head  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

Afte  ‘while  he  arose  to  bid  them  farewell. 
Then  suddenly  Antea  exclaimed: 

“Caius,  let  us  go  to  see  the  Nazarene.  ” 
“Then  hurry,  for  the  procession  will  start 
soon/’  said  Pontius,  leaving  them. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


89 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  day,  which  from  early  morning  had 
been  clear  but  sultry,  about  noontime  became 
cloudy.  From  the  northeast  dark  and  omin- 
ous clouds  were  floating,  not  very  large,  but 
heavy  as  if  pregnant  with  a storm.  Among 
them  could  still  be  seen  the  deep  azure  of  the 
heavens,  but  it  was  plainly  foreseen,  that 
they  would  soon  come  in  contact  with  each 
other  and  unite  to  cover  the  whole  blue  sphere 
In  the  meantime  the  sun  illuminated  their 
edges  with  fire  and  gold.  Above  the  city 
itself  and  the  adjoining  hills  a vast  extent  of 
blue  sky  was  still  visible,  and  down  in  the 
valley  not  a single  breeze  stirred  the  air. 

Upon  the  high  plain,  called  Golgotha,  were 
standing  here  and  there  small  crowds  of  peo- 
ple, who  had  arrived  in  advance  of  the  proces- 
sion, expected  from  the  city. 

The  sun  cast  a bright  light  upon  wide  stony 
spaces,  which  were  exceedingly  dismal,  empty, 
and  sterile.  Their  monotonous  gray  color  was 
broken  only  by  the  black  net  of  fissures  and 


40 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


ravines,  which  appeared  still  more  black  in 
contrast  to  the  plain,  which  was  flooded  with 
bright  light.  Further  away  were  seen  more 
lofty  eminences,  also  gloomy,  and  half  ob- 
scured by  the  bluish  mist  of  distance. 

Lower,  between  the  walls  of  the  city  and  the 
eminence  of  Golgotha,  lay  a plain,  less  bar- 
ren, studded  here  and  there  with  cliffs.  There 
from  crevices  in  which  had  become  deposited 
a small  amount  of  fertile  earth,  were  visible 
the  tops  of  fig-trees  with  poor  and  scanty 
foliage. 

Here  and  there  reared  buildings  with  flat 
roofs,  as  if  pasted  like  swallors*  nests  to  the 
stony  walls,  and  whitewashed  sepulchres  were 
shining  far  away  in  the  sunlight. 

Now,  on  account  of  the  approaching  holi- 
days and  the  afflux  of  countrymen  into  the 
city,  had  been  erected  near  the  city  walls  in- 
numerable tents  and  booths,  which  formed 
regular  villages,  filled  with  people  and  camels. 

On  that  expanse  of  the  heavens,  still  clear  of 
clouds,  the  sun  rose  higher  and  higher.  Now 
the  hours  approached,  when  usually,  on  these 
eminences,  deep  silence  reigned,  as  all  living 
creatures  sought  refuge  in  the  walls  and  crev- 
ices. And  even  now,  notwithstanding  the 
unusual  life,  a certain  sorrow  was  visible  in 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


41 


the  whole  neighborhood  in  which  the  blinding 
light  fell  not  on  verdant,  but  on  sterile,  stony 
spaces.  The  buzz  of  distant  voices,  ascending 
from  the  direction  of  the  city  walls,  was 
changed  into  the  murmur  of  waves,  and 
seemed  to  be  absorbed  by  the  tranquillity. 

The  single  groups  awaiting  on  Golgotha 
from  early  morning,  directed  their  faces 
toward  the  city,  whence  the  procession  might 
be  expected  at  any  moment. 

Antea’s  litter  now  arrived.  It  was  preceded 
by  a few  soldiers,  whom  the  procurator  had 
ordered  to  open  a way  through  the  crowds, 
and  in  case  of  necessity  defend  them  from  the 
insults  of  the  fanatical  crowds,  which  hated 
foreigners.  Cinna  walked  beside  the  litter, 
accompanied  by  the  centurion  Rufilus. 

Antea  seemed  to  be  quieter  and  less  terrified 
now,  with  the  approaching  midday,  with  the 
danger  of  its  horrible  visions,  which  had 
sapped  the  very  life  from  her.  Everything 
the  procurator  had  said  about  the  young  Naz- 
arene,  captured  her  mind  and  directed  her 
attention  away  from  her  own  misery.  There 
was  something  strange  in  all  this  which  she 
was  unable  to  comprehend.  The  world  of  that 
time  had  witnessed  many  men  die  as  quietly, 
as  a funeral  pile  expires  when  the  wood  burns 


42 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


out.  But  that  was  a quiet,  rising  from 
courage,  or  from  a philosophical  yielding  to  an 
inexorable  need,  exchanging  light  for  dark- 
ness, real  life  for  a hazy,  incomprehensible 
and  indefinite  existence.  Nobody  yet  had  died 
with  a firm  certainty  that  only  beyond  the 
grave  would  begin  a real  existence,  and  such 
a powerful  and  endless  happiness,  as  can  be 
bestowed  only  by  a being,  omnipotent  and 
eternal. 

And  He,  who  had  been  condemned  to  be 
crucified,  preached  all  this  as  an  unquestiona- 
ble truth.  His  teachings  not  only  absorbed 
the  attention  of  Antea,  but  they  became  for 
her  the  only  source  of  hope  and  consolation. 
She  was  convinced  that  she  was  going  to  die, 
and  she  was  constantly  overwhelmed  with  a 
deep  sorrow.  And  indeed  what  was  death  to 
her?.  It  was,  to  leave  Cinna,  to  leave  her 
father,  to  leave  the  world,  to  leave  love ; death 
was  to  her  nothing  but  void  and  darkness. 
Therefore  the  more  happiness  life  held  for  her, 
the  greater  her  sorrow  must  be.  If  death 
could  help  her  in  anyway,  or  if  she  could  take 
with  her  even  the  remembrance  of  love,  or  the 
memory  of  happiness,  it  would  be  easier  for 
her  to  give  herself  up  to  quiet  resignation. 

All  at  once,  not  e xpecting  anything  from 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


43 


death,  she  heard  that  death  could  give  her 
everything.  And  who  was  he  who  had  de- 
clared that?  He  was  a strange  man,  a teacher, 
a prophet,  a philosopher,  who  recommended 
to  men  love,  as  the  highest  virtue,  who  blessed 
them  while  being  flogged,  and  who  had  been 
condemned  to  die  upon  the  cross.  So  Antea 
thought:  “Why  did  he  teach  thus,  when  the 
cross  was  his  only  reward?  Others  desired 
power — he  did  not  care  for  it ; others  sought 
wealth  — he  remained  poor;  others  loved 
palaces,  feasts,  luxuries,  robes  of  purple,  costly 
chariots  inlaid  with  ivory  and  pearl — he  lived 
like  a shepherd.  Besides  this  he  taught  love, 
pity,  poverty;  hence  he  could  not  be  an  evil 
man,  who  purposely  deceived  men.  If  he 
taught  the  truth,  in  such  a case  let  death  be 
blessed,  as  the  termination  of  all  earthly  mis- 
eries, as  the  change  from  a lower  to  a higher 
happiness,  as  a light  to  the  eyes  of  the  dying, 
and  as  wings  on  which  one  may  soar  away  to 
eternal  joy !” 

Now  Antea  fully  understood  what  was  meant 
by  the  announcement  of  resurrection.  The 
mind  and  heart  of  the  sick  woman  clung  with 
all  their  might  to  his  teachings.  She  recol- 
lected also  the  words  of  her  father,  who  had 
repeatedly  said,  that  nothing  but  some  entirely 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM, 


44 

new  truth,  might  save  the  oppressed  soul  of 
men  from  darkness  and  liberate  them  from 
their  shackles.  And  here  at  last  was  the  new 
truth ! This  truth  had  conquered  death,  hence 
it  had  brought  salvation.  Antea’s  whole 
being  was  submerged  in  these  thoughts,  and 
Cinna  for  the  first  time  after  many,  many  days 
did  not  see  in  her  face  any  fear,  as  midday 
approached. 

At  last  the  procession  started  from  the  city 
toward  Golgotha,  and  it  could  be  seen  plainly 
from  the  elevated  spot  where  Antea’s  litter 
was  standing.  The  crowd  was  enormous,  but 
seemed  almost  lost  on  those  vast,  stony 
spaces.  From  the  open  gate  of  the  city, 
poured  more  and  more  people,  who  were 
joined  on  their  way  by  those  who  were  waiting 
outside  of  the  walls.  At  first  they  moved  in 
a long,  winding  trail,  which  constantly  broad- 
ened like  a swollen  river,  as  it  went  forward. 
At  each  side  swarms  of  children  ran  along. 

The  procession  shone  with  the  variegated 
hues  of  the  white  tunics,  and  the  scarlet  and 
blue  kerchiefs  of  the  women.  In  the  middle 
gleamed  the  arms  and  spears  of  Roman 
soldiers,  which  glittered  in  the  sunlight  as  if 
touched  by  fleeting  rays.  The  tumult  of  con- 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


45 


fused  voices  was  borne  from  afar,  and  grad- 
ually became  more  and  more  distinct. 

At  last  they  approached  and  the  front  ranks 
began  to  ascend  the  elevation.  The  crowd 
rushed  forward  to  secure  the  nearest  places 
to  witness  the  torment  unobstructed.  The 
company  of  soldiers,  conducting  the  con- 
demned, was  thus  left  far  in  the  rear.  The 
first  arrivals  were  children,  principally  boys, 
half  naked,  with  rags  tied  about  their  hips, 
with  heads  cropped  closely,  except  two  locks 
of  hair  near  the  temple,  tanned,  with  eyes 
almost  blue,  and  rough  voices. 

In  the  midst  of  the  wild  uproar  they  began 
to  dig  and  scrape  out  of  the  crevices  small 
stony  fragments  to  throw  at  the  condemned. 
Immediately  following  them  the  whole  plain 
thronged  with  a heterogeneous  mob.  Their 
faces  were  burning  with  excitement  and  ex- 
pectation. But  not  one  face  showed  a trace  of 
pity  or  compassion.  The  clamor  of  harsh 
voices,  the  enormous  number  of  words  ejected 
from  each  mouth,  the  quickness  of  their  move- 
ments, all  amazed  Antea,  notwithstanding  that 
in  Alexandria  she  was  accustomed  to  the  noisy 
liveliness  of  Greeks.  Here  the  people  con- 
versed with  each  other  as  though  they  wished 
to  throw  themselves  at  one  another.  They 


46 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


called  to  each  other,  as  if  begging  for  help. 
They  disputed,  as  if  some  one  was  cheating 
them. 

The  centurion  Rufilus  drew  near  to  the  litter 
and  gave  explanations  in  a quiet,  military 
tone.  In  the  meantime  from  the  city  flowed 
up  new  multitudes.  The  throng  grew  rapidly 
with  each  moment.  In  the  crowd  were  seen 
opulent  citizens  of  Jerusalem  clothed  in 
striped  tunics;  they  held  themselves  apart  from 
the  miserable  rabble  of  the  suburbs.  There 
arrived  also  in  great  numbers,  villagers,  who, 
with  their  families,  had  come  into  the  city 
to  celebrate  the  festival.  There  were  also 
many  field  laborers,  girdled  with  bags,  and 
shepherds,  with  kindly  and  astonished  faces, 
dressed  in  goatskins.  Crowds  of  women  ac- 
companied the  men.  However,  as  the  wealthier 
women  living  in  the  city  unwillingly  go  out 
from  their  homes,  this  crowd  was  composed 
mostly  of  women  of  the  people,  villagers  or 
showily  dressed  women  of  the  street,  with  dyed 
hair,  eyebrows,  and  nails,  heavily  perfumed 
with  nard,  wearing  immense  earrings  and 
necklaces  of  varied  coins. 

Finally  the  Sanhedrim  arrived,  and  with  it 
Hanaan,  an  old  man  with  eagle  face  and  blood- 
shot eyes;  there  arrived  also  the  heavy 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


47 


Caiphas,  wearing  a two-cornered  cap  and  bear- 
ing a gilded  tablet  at  his  breast.  With  them 
marched  different  classes  of  Pharisees,  as,  for 
instance,  those  “dragging  their  legs,”  who 
purposely  strike  their  feet  against  all  obstacles. 
Pharisees  with  “bloody  foreheads,”  who  also 
purposely  beat  them  against  the  walls,  and 
Pharisees  “bent  down,”  as  if  ready  to  bear  the 
burdens  of  the  sins  of  the  entire  city  upon 
their  shoulders.  Sullen  dignity  and  cold  inso- 
lence distinguished  them  from  the  noisy  crowd 
of  common  people. 

Cinna  contemplated  this  rabble,  with  the 
haughty  and  contemptuous  face  of  a man, 
belonging  to  the  dominant  race;  Antea,  with 
surprise  and  fear.  Many  Hebrews  lived  in 
Alexandria,  but  there  they  were  half  Greek. 
But  here  she  saw  them  for  the  first  time,  just 
as  the  procurator  had  represented  them  and 
as  they  really  appeared  in  their  native  nest. 
Her  young  face,  upon  which  was  already  im- 
printed the  stamp  of  death,  and  her  shadow- 
like form,  attracted  universal  attention.  They 
stared  at  her  insolently  as  much  as  they  were 
allowed  by  the  soldiers  surrounding  her  litter. 
But  here  was  borne  such  contempt  and  hate 
for  strangers,  that  nobody’s  eyes  showed  any 
compassion;  they  glittered  rather  with  joy, 


48 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


that  the  victim  could  not  escape  death.  Only 
just  v, ,o\7  did  Antea  understand  why  these  peo- 
ple demanded  the  cross  for  the  prophet,  who 
taught  -Ove. 

That  Nazarene  at  once  appeared  to  her  as 
someone  so  near  that  he  was  almost  dear  to 
her.  He  had  to  die,  and  also  she  had  to  die. 
Nothing  could  save  Him  after  the  sentence 
had  been  pronounced.  And  upon  her  also 
sentence  had  fallen;  therefore  it  seemed  to 
Antea  that  they  were  united  by  the  fraternity  of 
misery  and  death.  But  He  marched  to  the 
cross  with  faith  in  a life  after  death ; she  as 
yet  had  not  that  faith  and  she  came  to  draw  it 
from  the  sight  of  Him. 

In  the  meantime,  from  the  distance  arose  a 
tumult,  whistling,  howling — then  all  was  hush- 
ed in  silence.  Then  was  heard  the  clinking 
of  arms  and  the  measured  tread  of  the  soldiers. 
The  multitude  swayed,  cleared  a way  and  the 
company,  conducting  the  condemned,  began 
to  pass  near  the  litter.  At  the  head,  at  each 
side,  and  behind  marched  soldiers  with  slow 
and  even  steps.  In  their  midst  were  seen 
three  arms  of  crosses,  which  seemed  to  ad- 
vance by  themselves,  as  they  were  carried  by 
men  bent  under  their  burden.  It  was  easy  to 
guess  that  neither  of  those  three  was  the  Naz- 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


49 


arene ; two  of  them  had  the  repulsive  faces  of 
thieves,  the  third  was  a middle-aged  plain 
villager,  evidently  forced  by  the  soldiers  to 
bear  this  burden  for  another.  The  Nazarene 
followed  behind  the  crosses,  and  after  him 
closely  walked  two  soldiers.  He  walked  with 
a purple  mantle  thrown  over  his  garments,  and 
upon  his  head  a crown  of  thorns;  from  under 
the  points  of  this  crown  issued  drops  of  blood. 
Some  of  which  coursed  slowly  down  his  face, 
while  some  had  coagulated  right  under  the 
crown,  like  berries  of  the  wild  rose,  or  beads 
of  coral.  He  was  pale,  and  walked  slowly, 
with  weakened  and  shaky  steps.  He  pro- 
ceeded amid  the  railing  of  the  throng,  as  if 
buried  in  thoughts  of  a better  world,  as  if  torn 
away  from  the  earth,  as  if  ignoring  the  cries 
of  hate,  or  as  if  forgiving  beyond  the  limits  of 
human  forgiveness,  and  as  if  merciful,  beyond 
the  limits  of  human  mercy;  for  He  was  already 
absorbed  with  infinity,  already  elevated  beyond 
earthly  gold,  very  quiet,  mild  and  extremely 
sorrowful  with  the  sorrows  of  the  whole  world. 

“Thou  art  the  Truth,”  Antea  murmured 
with  trembling  lips. 

Now  the  procession  was  passing  right  beside 
her  litter.  There  was  even  a moment  when 
it  stopped,  while  the  soldiers  in  advance  were 

4 Follow  Him 


50 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


opening  the  way  through  the  crowd.  Antea 
saw  the  Nazarene  at  only  a few  steps  distant. 
She  saw  the  breeze  gently  lift  the  locks  of  His 
hair,  she  saw  the  ruddy  reflection  falling  from 
His  mantle  upon  His  pale  and  transparent 
face.  The  rabble,  rushing  upon  Him,  en- 
circled closely  the  soldiers,  who  were  compelled 
to  form  a barricade  with  their  shields  to  pro- 
tect Him  from  their  fury.  All  around  were 
seen  outstretched  arms  with  clenched  fists, 
eyes  bursting  from  the  sockets,  shining  teeth, 
beards  disheveled  from  their  furious  motions, 
and  foaming  lips  throwing  out  harsh  cries. 

But  He,  glancing  around,  as  if  wishing  to 
ask:  “What  did  I do  to  ye?”  lifted  up  his  eyes 
toward  heaven,  and  prayed,  and  forgave. 

“Antea,  Antea!”  exclaimed  Cinna  at  that 
moment. 

But  it  seemed  as  if  Antea  heard  not  his 
voice.  From  her  eyes  flowed  great  tears;  she 
forgot  her  sickness,  she  forgot  that  for  a long 
time  she  had  not  been  able  to  rise  from  her 
litter.  Suddenly  she  rose  up  trembling,  half 
conscious  from  sorrow,  compassion,  and  indig- 
nation at  the  wild  cries  of  the  mob;  she 
plucked  hyacinths  and  apple-blossoms  from 
her  litter,  and  threw  them  as  the  feet  of  the 
Nazarene. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


51 


All  voices  ceased  for  a moment.  Astonish- 
ment subdued  the  mob,  at  the  sight  of  this 
distinguished  Roman  lady,  honoring  the  Con- 
demned. He  turned  His  eyes  toward  her  pale, 
sickly  face,  and  his  lips  moved,  as  if  blessing 
her.  Antea,  falling  upon  the  pillows  of  her 
litter,  felt  that  upon  her  descended  a whole 
sea  of  light,  goodness,  mercy,  hope,  courage, 
and  happiness.  And  again  she  murmured: 

“Thou  art  the  Truth!” 

Then  a new  wave  of  tears  filled  her  eyes. 

But  He  was  pushed  ahead  several  steps  from 
the  litter  at  the  place  where  already  had  been 
erected  the  uprights  of  three  crosses.  The 
mob  surrounded  Him  again,  but  as  that  place 
was  much  higher,  Antea  soon  again  saw  His 
pale  face  and  the  crown  of  thorns.  The  soldiers 
again  attacked  the  crowd  and  forced  them 
back  that  they  might  not  interfere  with  the 
execution. 

Now  they  began  to  fasten  the  two  thieves  to 
the  crosses  on  either  side.  The  third  cross 
stood  between  with  a white  card  fixed  at  the 
top  with  a large  nail;  the  ever  increasing 
breeze  fluttered  and  pulled  vehemently  at  the 
card. 

When  the  soldiers  approached  the  Nazarene 
to  disrobe  Him,  cries  went  up  from  the  throng: 


52 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


‘King!  King!  Do  not  succumb,  King!” 
'‘Where  hast  thou  thy  legions?  Defend  thy- 
self!” At  moments  derisive  laughter  burst 
forth,  which  carried  away  the  mob,  and  then 
the  whole  stormy  expanse  resounded  with  one 
echo.  They  stretched  Him  upon  the  ground 
to  nail  His  hands  to  the  cross-beam  and  after- 
ward raised  Him  to  the  main  pillar. 

Then  a man,  standing  near  the  litter  and 
clothed  in  a white  tunic,  suddenly  threw  him- 
self on  the  ground,  gathered  handfuls  of  dust 
and  stones,  and  cast  them  on  his  head,  and 
cried  with  a terrible  voice,  full  of  despair: 

“I  was  a leper — He  cured  me — and  they 
crucify  Him!” 

The  face  of  Antea  became  pale  as  death. 

“He  healed  him!  Caius,  dost  thou  hear  it?” 
said  she. 

“Dost  thou  desire  to  return?”  asked  Cinna. 

“No!  I wish  to  remain  here!’’ 

And  Cinna  too  was  overcome  by  a wild  de- 
spair, because  he  had  not  summoned  the  Naz- 
arene  to  his  house  to  heal  Antea. 

But  then  soldiers  placed  the  nails  to  His 
hands  and  began  to  strike  them.  At  first  was 
heard  the  dull  clang  of  iron  striking  iron,  but 
this  was  ,soon  followed  by  a deeper  sound, 
when  the  point  of  the  nails,  having  passed 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


53 


through  the  flesh,  penetrated  the  wood.  The 
crowds  had  quieted  down  again,  very  likely 
expecting  to  enjoy  the  groans  which  the 
torture  might  wring  from  the  lips  of  the  Naz- 
arene.  But  He  remained  quiet,  and  over  the 
plain  echoed  only  the  ominous  and  terrible 
strokes  of  the  hammer. 

At  last  the  work  was  finished.  They  drew 
up  the  cross  beam  with  the  body.  The  centu- 
rion, directing  the  work,  pronounced,  or  rather 
sang  in  a monotonous  voice,  words  of  com- 
mand, in  accordance  with  which,  one  of  the 
soldiers  proceeded  to  nail  the  feet. 

Just  at  this  time  those  clouds,  which  from 
early  morning  had  appeared  and  gradually 
spread  over  the  horizon,  now  obscured  the 
sun.  The  distant  rocks  and  elevations,  which 
had  shone  in  radiance,  ceased  to  gleam.  The 
world  was  enveloped  in  darkness.  An  omin- 
ous, reddish  gloom  settled  upon  the  whole 
country  and  became  heavier  as  the  sun  sank 
lower  behind  the  banks  of  clouds.  It  seemed 
that  someone  from  above  was  scattering  red- 
dish darkness  upon  the  earth.  The  hot  wind 
blew  once,  and  then  again,  then  all  was  quiet. 
The  air  became  sultry. 

All  at  once  even  those  remaining  streaks  of 
light  became  black.  Clouds,  gloomy  as  night, 


54 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


rolled  and  advanced  like  a gigantic  billow, 
toward  the  plain  and  the  city.  A storm  was 
coming.  The  world  was  filled  with  alarm. 

“Let  us  go?”  exclaimed  Cinna  again. 

“Again,  again,  I desire  to  see  Him!” 
answered  Antea. 

When  the  darkness  had  obscured  the  hang- 
ing forms,  Cinna  had  given  order  to  bring  the 
litter  nearer  the  place  of  execution.  They 
approached  so  closely,  that  hardly  a few  steps 
intervened  between  them  and  the  cross.  On 
the  dark  cross  was  seen  the  body  of  the  Cruci- 
fied which,  amidst  the  universal  darkness, 
seemed  as  if  interwoven  with  the  silver  rays 
of  the  moon.  His  breast  heaved  with  rapid 
breathing.  His  head  and  eyes  were  still  lifted 
up. 

From  the  depths  of  the  clouds  was  heard  a 
dull  rumbling.  Thunder  arose,  and  rolled  and 
echoed  with  a terrific  crash,  from  east  to  west; 
and  there,  as  if  falling  into  a bottomless  abyss, 
reverberated  lower  and  deeper,  dying  away, 
then  again  strengthening,  till  at  last  it  burst 
with  a crash,  that  shook  the  earth  at  its  very 
foundations. 

At  the  same  moment  a tremendous  livid  flash 
of  lightning  tore  asunder  the  clouds,  illumined 
the  heavens,  the  earth,  the  crosses,  the  arms 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


55 


of  the  soldiers,  and  the  terrified  and  alarmed 
throng  crowded  together  like  a flock  of  sheep. 

Still  heavier  darkness  dominated  after  that 
lightning  flash.  Near  the  litter  were  heard 
the  sobs  of  women,  who  also  had  come  nearer 
the  cross.  Those  sobs  amid  silence  were  soul 
piercing.  Those  who  had  become  lost  in  the 
crowds,  called  now  to  each  other. 

Here  and  there  shrill  voices  were  heard. 
“Oyah!  oy  lanu!  Has  not  the  Just  One 
been  crucified?” 

“The  One  who  gave  testimony  to  truth! 
Oyah!” 

“The  One  who  raiseth  the  dead!  Oyah!” 
And  other  voices  cried: 

“Woe  to  thee,  Jerusalem!” 

Others  exclaimed: 

“The  earth  shook!” 

Another  flash  of  lightning  opened  the  depths 
of  the  heavens  and  revealed  in  them  enormous 
forms  of  fire.  All  voices  were  hushed,  or 
rather  were  drowned  in  the  roaring  of  the 
winds,  which  instantly  rose  with  gigantic 
power,  carrying  away  numbers  of  kerchiefs, 
and  mantles,  and  whirled  them  away  over  the 
plain. 

The  voices  arose  again : 

“The  earth  shakes'” 


56 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


Some  started  to  run.  Others  stood  as  if 
chained  to  the  spot  by  terror,  thunder-struck, 
without  thought,  filled  with  the  dull  impres- 
sion only,  that  something  terrible  was  happen- 
ing. 

Then  the  darkness  suddenly  became  less 
dense.  Wind  carried  the  clouds  onward,  rolled 
and  tore  them  like  old  rags.  The  light  grew 
gradually.  At  last  the  dark  covering  was  torn 
and  through  the  opening  poured  suddenly  a 
flood  of  sunlight.  Soon  the  light  reached  the 
whole  elevation,  and  revealed  the  crosses,  and 
the  terrified  faces  of  the  crowds. 

The  head  of  the  Nazarene,  pale  as  wax,  had 
drooped  low  upon  His  breast.  His  eye-lids 
were  closed,  His  lips  were  blue. 

“He  is  dead,”  murmured  Antea. 

“He  is  dead,”  repeated  Cinna. 

Then  the  centurion  raised  his  spear  and 
thrust  it  into  the  side  of  the  Crucified.  A 
strange  and  curious  thing:  the  reappearance  of 
the  light  and  the  sight  of  His  death  seemed  to 
pacify  the  mob.  They  now  approached  nearer 
and  nearer,  as  the  soldiers  did  not  hinder  them. 
From  amidst  the  crowd  voices  cried  out: 

“Come  down  from  the  cross!  Why  don't 
you  come  down?” 

Once  more  Antea  fixed  her  eyes  upon  that 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


57 


pale,  drooping  head  and  whispered  softly,  as  if 
to  herself : 

14 Indeed,  He  will  rise  from  the  dead!” 

In  the  presence  of  death,  which  had  placed 
blue  spots  upon  His  lids  and  lips,  in  the 
presence  of  those  arms,  strained  to  the  utmost, 
in  the  presence  of  that  motionless  body,  which 
had  lowered  with  the  gravity  of  dead  things, 
her  voice  trembled  with  despairing  hopeless- 
ness. 

Cinna’s  soul  was  equally  tortured  by  despair 
as  great.  He  also  did  not  believe  that  the 
Nazarene  would  rise  from  the  dead,  but  he 
believed  that  if  He  had  remained  upon  earth 
He  was  the  only  one,  who,  with  His  power, 
whether  good  or  evil,  could  have  cured  Antea. 

In  the  meantime  many  more  voices  cried 
out:  “Come  down  from  the  cross!  Come 

down!” 

“Come  down!”  repeated  Cinna,  with  despair 
in  his  soul.  “Heal  her,  take  my  soul!” 

It  cleared  more  and  more.  The  heights  were 
still  concealed  by  the  haze,  but  above  the  plain 
and  the  city  Che  skies  were  serene.  “Furris 
Antonia”  drone  in  v;he  ounlight,  as  brilliant  as 
the  sun  itself.  The  rlr  was  fresh  and  was 
filled  with  flying  swallows.  Cinna  gave  order 
to  return. 


*8 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


It  was  afteri>oon,  and  Antea  said  as  they 
neared  the  house: 

“Hecate  has  not  appeared  to-day.” 

Cinna’s  mind  was  also  occupied  with  this 
thought. 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM, 


59 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

And  again  the  next  day  the  vision  did  not 
appear.  The  sick  woman  was  unusually  live^. 
Timon  had  arrived  from  Caesarea;  he  was 
very  anxious  for  the  life  of  his  daughter  and 
alarmed  by  Cinna’s  letters,  so  he  had  left 
Alexandria  a few  days  ago,  to  see  once  more 
his  only  child  before  her  death. 

Hope  began  to  knock  again  at  Cinna’s  heart, 
as  if  demanding  to  be  admitted.  But  he  did 
not  dare  to  open  the  door  to  this  guest, — did 
not  have  the  courage  to  hope  again.  Though 
in  the  visions,  which  had  been  tormenting 
Antea,  there  had  been  some  intermissions, 
they  were  never  of  two  days  duration,  but  of 
one  day,  in  Alexandria,  and  also  during  their 
stay  in  the  desert.  The  present  encourage- 
ment Cinna  ascribed  to  the  arrival  of  Timon, 
and  to  her  impressions  at  the  cross,  which  so 
filled  Antea’s  soul,  that  even  with  her  father, 
she  could  speak  of  nothing  else. 

Timon  listened  to  her  with  absorbed  atten- 
tion, did  not  deny  anything,  but  pondered. 


60 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


He  questioned  minutely  about  the  teachings 
of  the  Nazarene,  of  which,  however,  Antea 
knew  nothing  more,  than  what  she  had  heard 
from  the  procurator. 

Antea  was  feeling  considerably  better  and 
stronger,  in  general,  and  when  midday  arrived 
and  passed,  her  eyes  were  animated  with  real 
hope  and  courage.  Several  times  she  had 
called  that  a very  prosperous  day  and  asked 
her  husband  to  make  note  of  it. 

But  the  day  was  in  reality  gloomy  and  sor- 
rowful. Rain  had  fallen  since  early  morning; 
it  was  at  first  very  heavy,  afterward  lighter, 
driving,  from  low-hanging,  monotonous-look- 
ing clouds.  Toward  evening  the  skies  cleared 
and  the  great  fiery  orb  of  the  sun,  shone  out 
through  the  mist,  painted  with  gold  and  purple 
the  clouds,  the  sombre  rocks,  the  white  marble 
portals  of  the  villas,  and  flowed  down  in  bril- 
liant rays  toward  the  Mediterranean. 

The  next  day  was  beautiful.  The  morning 
dawned  clear  and  bright,  the  air  was  fresh  and 
balmy  and  gave  promise  of  fine  weather.  The 
skies  were  without  a single  cloud;  the  earth 
was  so  submerged  in  a bath  of  azure,  that  all 
objects  appeared  blue. 

Antea  gave  order  to  carry  her  litter  out  and 
place  it  beneath  the  shade  of  her  favorite 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


61 


pistachio-tree.  She  longed  to  delight  herself 
with  the  gay  and  blue  extent,  from  the  favor- 
able height  on  which  the  tree  grew.  Cinna 
and  Timon  did  not  leave  Antea’s  litter  for  a 
moment ; they  studied  attentively  the  face  o^ 
the  sick  woman.  There  was  upon  her  face 
some  disquiet  of  expectation.  But  it  did  not 
show  that  mortal  fear,  which  used  to  take  pos- 
session of  her  at  the  approach  of  midday.  Her 
eyes  shone  lovelier  and  her  cheeks  flushed 
with  a slight  color. 

At  moments  Cinna  thought  indeed,  that 
Antea  might  be  restored  to  health;  and  at  the 
very  thought  of  it,  he  felt  like  throwing  himself 
upon  the  ground,  sobbing  from  happiness  and 
blessing  the  gods.  At  moments  again  he  was 
overcome  by  the  fear,  that  perhaps  this  was 
only  the  last  flame  of  the  dying  lamp.  Desir- 
ing to  draw  out  hope  from  somewhere,  at  least, 
he  looked  at  Timon’s  face,  every  few  minutes; 
but  the  same  thoughts  must  have  •occupied 
Timon’s  mind,  as  he  carefully  avoided  meeting 
Cinna’s  eyes.  Not  one  of  those  three  gave 
evidence  by  a single  word  that  they  noticed 
the  approach  of  midday.  But  Cinna  every 
moment  measuring  the  shadows  with  his  eyes, 
noticed  with  beating  heart  how  they  gradually 
became  shorter  and  shorter. 


62 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


And  they  sat  together,  as  if  buried  in  medi- 
tation. Perhaps  Antea  herself  was  the  calmest 
of  all.  Lying  in  the  open  litter,  her  head  rest- 
ing on  a purple  pillow,  she  was  breathing  with 
satisfaction  the  pure  air  which  the  breeze  was 
bringing  up  from  the  west,  from  the  distant 
sea. 

However,  before  midday  the  breeze  ceased. 
The  heat  became  greater.  The  peppermint  of 
the  cliffs  and  the  aromatic  bunches  of  nard, 
heated  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  threw  out  a 
heavy  and  intoxicating  odor.  Brilliant  butter- 
flies poised  themselves  above  the  clusters  of 
anemones.  From  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  tiny 
lizards,  being  accustomed  to  the  litter  and 
those  people,  crawled  cautiously  out,  one  after 
the  other,  as  usual,  confident,  and  also  care- 
fully watching  every  movement.  The  whole 
world  was  hushed  in  that  radiant  tranquillity, 
in  that  soothing  warmth,  that  serene  sweetness, 
and  azure  drowsiness. 

Timon  and  Cinna  seemed  also  to  be  envel- 
oped in  that  sunny  peace.  Antea  closed  her 
eyes  as  if  overcome  by  a light  sleep.  The 
silence  remained  unbroken,  save  by  the  occa- 
sional sighs,  which  rose  from  their  breasts. 
Then  Cinna  noticed  that  his  shadow  had  lost 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


63 


its  prolonged  shape  and  was  lying  close  at  his 
feet. 

It  was  midday. 

Suddenly  Antea  opened  her  eyes  and  cried 
out  in  a strange  voice : 

“Cinna,  give  me  thy  hand!” 

He  sprang  up  and  all  his  blood  was  chilled 
to  ice  in  his  veins,  for  it  was  the  hour  of 
Antea’s  terrible  visions. 

And  her  eyes  opened  wider  and  wider. 
‘‘Dost  thou  see,”  said  she,  “how  the  light 
gathers  there  in  the  air,  how  it  trembles, 
glitters,  and  draws  near  to  me?” 

“Antea,  look  not  there,  I pray!”  cried  Cinna. 
But,  O,  wonder ! there  was  no  terror  on  her 
face.  Her  lips  were  open,  her  eyes  shone 
brighter  and  joy  beyond  measure  illuminated 
her  face. 

“The  pillar  of  light  is  approaching  toward 
me,"  said  she  further.  “I  see!  That  is  He, 
theNazarene!  Omild!  . . . O,  merciful!  . . . 
He  stretches  out  His  transfixed  hands  to  me, 
like  a mother  . . . Cinna!  He  brings  me 
health,  salvation,  and  calls  me  to  Himself.” 
And  Cinna  became  very  pale  and  said : 
“Whithersoever  He  leads  us,  let  us  follow 
Him!” 

On  the  other  side,  upon  the  stony  path,  lead- 


04 


LET  US  FOLLOW  HIM. 


ing  toward  the  city,  a moment  later,  appeared 
Pontius  Pilate.  Before  he  reached  them,  it 
was  evident  from  his  face  that  he  was  bringing 
fresh  tidings,  which  he,  being  a man  of  sound 
judgment,  looked  upon,  as  a new  and  absurd 
fabrication  of  the  ignorant  and  fanatic  multi- 
tude. 

While  still  afar  off,  wiping  drops  of  sweat 
from  his  forehead,  he  cried  out: 

“Just  imagine,  what  those  people  assert: 
‘He  has  risen  from  the  dead!'  99 


THE  END, 


DREAMS. 


6 5 


“I  THOUGHT  I STOOD.” 

I. 

I thought  I stood  in  Heaven  before  God’s 
throne,  and  God  asked  me  what  I had  come 
for.  I said  I had  come  to  arraign  my  brother, 
Man. 

God  said,  “What  has  he  done?” 

I said,  “He  has  taken  my  sister,  Woman, 
and  has  stricken  her,  and  wounded  her,  and 
thrust  her  out  into  the  streets;  she  lies  there 
prostrate.  His  hands  are  red  with  blood.  I 
am  here  to  arraign  him;  that  the  kingdom  be 
taken  from  him,  because  he  is  not  worthy,  and 
given  unto  me.  My  hands  are  pure.” 

I showed  them. 

God  said,  “Thy  hands  are  pure.  Lift  up 
thy  robe.” 

I raised  it;  my  feet  were  red,  blood-red,  as 
if  I had  trodden  in  wine. 

God  said,  “How  is  this” 

I said,  “Dear  Lord,  the  streets  on  earth  are 
full  of  mire.  If  I should  walk  straight  on  in 
them  my  outer  robe  might  be  bespotted,  you 

5 Dreams 


66 


DREAMS. 


see  how  white  it  is!  Therefore  I pick  my 
way. M 

God  said,  “On  what?“ 

I was  silent,  and  I let  my  robe  fall.  I 
wrapped  my  mantle  about  my  head.  I went 
out  softly.  I was  afraid  that  the  angels  would 
see  me. 

II. 

Once  more  I stood  at  the  gate  of  Heaven. 
I and  another.  We  held  fast  by  one  another; 
we  were  very  tired.  We  looked  up  at  the 
great  gates;  the  angels  opened  them,  and  we 
went  in.  The  mud  was  on  our  garments.  We 
walked  across  the  marble  floor,  and  up  to  the 
great  throne.  Then  the  angels  divided  us. 
Her,  they  set  upon  the  top  step,  but  me,  upon 
the  bottom;  for,  they  said  “Last  time  this 
woman  came  here  she  left  red  foot-marks  on 
the  floor;  we  had  to  wash  them  out  with  our 
tears.  Let  her  not  go  up.” 

Then  she,  with  whom  I came,  looked  back, 
and  stretched  out  her  hand  to  me;  and  I went 
and  stood  beside  her.  And  the  angels,  they, 
the  shining  ones  who  never  sinned  and  never 
suffered,  walked  by  us  to  and  fro  and  up  and 
down;  I think  we  should  have  felt  a little 
lonely  there  if  it  had  not  been  for  one  another, 
the  angels  were  so  bright. 


DREAMS. 


6Y 


God  asked  me  what  I have  come  for;  and  I 
drew  my  sister  forward  a little  that  he  might 
see  her. 

God  said,  “How  is  it  you  are  here  together 
to-day?’  ’ 

I said,  “She  was  upon  the  ground  in  the 
street,  and  they  passed  over  her;  I laydown 
by  her,  and  she  put  her  arms  around  my  neck, 
and  so  I lifted  her,  and  we  two  rose  together.” 

God  said,  “Whom  are  you  now  come  to  accuse 
before  me?” 

I said,  “We  are  come  to  accuse  no  man.” 

And  God  bent,  and  said,  “My  children* — what 
is  it  that  ye  seek?” 

And  she  beside  me  drew  my  hand  that  I 
should  speak  for  both. 

I said,  “We  have  come  to  ask  that  thou 
shouldst  speak  to  Man,  our  brother,  and  give 
us  a message  for  him  that  he  might  under- 
stand, and  that  he  might ” 

God  said,  “Go,  take  the  message  down  to 
him!” 

I said.  “But  what  is  the  message?” 

God  said,  “Upon  your  hearts  it  is  written; 
take  it  down  to  him.  ” 

And  we  turned  to  go ; the  angels  went  with 
US  to  the  door.  They  looked  at  us. 


68 


DREAMS. 


And  one  said — “Ai!  but  their  dresses  are 
beautiful!” 

And  the  other  said,  ‘‘I  thought  it  was  mire 
when  they  came  in,  but  see,  it  is  all  golden!” 

But  another  said,  ‘‘Hush,  it  is  the  light  from 
their  faces!” 

And  we  went  down  to  him. 

Alassio,  Italy, 


DREAMS. 


69 


THE  SUNLIGHT  LAY  ACROSS  MY 

bed,— 

In  the  dark  one  night  I lay  upon  my  bed.  I 
heard  the  policeman’s  feet  beat  on  the  pave- 
ment ; I heard  the  wheels  of  carriages  roll  home 
from  houses  of  entertainment;  I heard  a 
woman’s  laugh  below  my  window  and  then  I 
fell  asleep.  And  in  the  dark  I dreamt  a 
dream.  I dreamt  God  took  my  soul  to  Hell. 

Hell  was  a fair  place ; the  water  of  the  lake 
was  blue. 

I said  to  God,  “I  like  this  place.” 

God  said,  “Ay,  dost  thou!” 

Birds  sang,  turf  came  to  the  water-edge, — 
and  trees  grew  from  it.  Away  off  among  the 
trees  I saw  beautiful  women  walking.  Their 
clothes  were  of  many  delicate  colors  and  clung 
to  them,  and  they  were  tall  and  graceful,  and 
had  yellow  hair.  Their  robes  trailed  over  the 
grass.  They  glided  in  and  out  among  the 
trees,  and  over  their  heads  hung  yellow  fruit 
like  large  pears  of  melted  gold. 


70  DREAMS. 

I said,  “It  is  very  fair;  I would  go  up  and 
taste  the ” 

God  said,  “Wait." 

And  after  a while  I noticed  a very  fair 
woman  pass ; she  looked  this  way  and  that,  and 
drew  down  a branch,  and  it  seemed  she  kissed 
the  fruit  upon  it  softly,  and  went  on  her  way, 
and  her  dress  made  no  rustle  as  she  passed  over 
the  grass.  And  when  I saw  her  no  more,  from 
among  the  stems  came  another  woman  fair  as 
she  had  been,  in  a delicate  tinted  robe ; she 
looked  this  way  and  that.  When  she  saw  no 
one  there  she  drew  down  the  fruit,  and  when 
she  had  looked  over  it  to  find  a place,  she  put 
her  mouth  to  it  softly,  and  went  away.  And  I 
saw  other  and  other  women  come,  making  no 
noise,  and  they  glided  away  also  over  the  grass. 

And  I said  to  God,  “What  are  they  doing?’* 

God  said,  “They  are  poisoning.” 

And  I said,  “How?” 

God  said,  “They  touch  it  with  their  lips; 
when  they  have  made  a tiny  wound  in  it  with 
their  fore-teeth  they  set  in  it  that  which  is 
under  their  tongues;  they  close  it  with  their 
lip — that  no  man  may  see  the  place,  and  pass 
on.” 

I said  to  God,  "Why  do  they  do  it?” 

God  said,  “That  another  may  not  eat.” 


DREAMS. 


71 


I said  to  God,  “But  if  they  poison  all,  then 
none  dare  eat;  what  do  they  gain?” 

God  said,  “Nothing.” 

I said,  “Are  they  not  afraid  they  themselves 
may  bite  where  another  has  bitten?” 

God  said,  “They  are  afraid.  In  Hell  all 
men  fear.  ’ ' 

He  called  me  further.  And  the  water  of  the 
lake  seemed  less  blue. 

Then,  to  the  right  among  the  trees  were 
men  working.  And  I said  to  God,  “I  should 
like  to  go  and  work  with  them.  Hell  must  be 
a very  fruitful  place  place,  the  grass  is  so 
green.” 

God  said,  “Nothing  grows  in  the  garden  they 
are  making.  ” 

We  stood  looking;  and  I saw  them  working 
among  the  bushes,  digging  holes,  but  in  them 
they  set  nothing ; and  when  they  had  covered 
them  with  sticks  and  earth  each  went  a way 
off  and  sat  behind  the  bushes  watching;  and 
I noticed  that  as  each  walked  he  set  his  foot 
down  carefully,  looking  where  he  trod.  I said 
to  God,  “What  are  they  doing?” 

God  said,  “Making  pitfalls  into  which  their 
fellows  may  sink.  ” 

I said  to  God,  “Why  do  they  do  it?” 


72 


DREAMS. 


God  said,  “Because  each  thinks  that  when 
his  brother  falls  he  will  rise.” 

I said  to  God,“  How  will  he  rise?” 

God  said,  “He  will  not  rise.” 

And  I saw  their  eyes  gleam  from  behind  the 
bushes. 

I said  to  God,  “Are  these  men  sane?” 

God  said,  “They  are  not  sane;  there  is  no 
sane  man  in  Hell.  ” 

And  he  told  me  to  come  further. 

And  I looked  where  I trod. 

And  we  came  where  Hell  opened  into  a 
plain,  and  a great  house  stood  there.  Marble 
pillars  upheld  the  roof,  and  white  marble  steps 
led  up  to  it.  The  wind  of  heaven  blew  through 
it.  Only  at  the  back  hung  a thick  curtain. 
Fair  men  and  women  there  feasted  at  long 
tables.  They  danced,  and  I saw  the  robes  of 
women  flutter  in  the  air  and  heard  the  laugh 
of  strong  men.  What  they  feasted  with  was 
wine;  they  drew  it  from  large  jars  which  stood 
somewhat  in  the  background,  and  I saw  the 
wine  sparkle  as  they  drew  it. 

And  I said  to  God,  “I  should  like  to  go  up 
and  drink/’  And  God  said,  “Wait.”  And  I 
saw  men  coming  into  the  banquet-house ; they 
came  in  from  the  back  and  lifted  the  corner  of 
the  curtain  at  the  sides  and  crept  in  quickly; 


DREAMS. 


73 


and  they  let  the  curtain  fall  behind  them, 
they  bore  great  jars  they  could  hardly  carry. 
And  the  men  and  women  crowded  round  them, 
and  the  newcomers  opened  their  jars  and  gave 
them  of  the  wine  to  drink ; and  I saw  that  the 
women  drank  even  more  greedily  than  the 
men.  And  when  others  had  well  drunken  they 
set  the  jars  among  the  old  ones  beside  the 
wall,  and  took  their  places  at  the  table.  And 
I saw  that  some  of  the  jars  were  very  old  and 
mildewed  and  dusty,  but  others  had  still  drops 
of  new  must  on  them  and  shone  from  the  fur- 
nace. 

And  I said  to  God,  “What  is  that?”  For 
amid  the  sound  of  the  singing,  and  over  the 
dancing  of  feet,  and  over  the  laughing  across 
the  wine-cups,  I heard  a cry. 

And  God  said,  “Stand  a way  off.” 

And  he  took  me  where  I saw  both  sides  of 
the  curtain.  Behind  the  house  was  the  wine- 
press where  the  wine  was  made.  I saw  the 
grapes  crushed,  and  I heard  them  cry.  I said, 
“Do  not  they  on  the  other  side  hear  it?” 

God  said,  “The  curtain  is  thick;  they  are 
feasting.” 

And  I said,  “But  the  men  who  came  in  last. 
They  saw?” 


74 


DREAMS. 


God  said,  “They  let  the  curtain  fall  behind 
them — and  they  forgot !” 

I said,  “How  came  they  by  their  jars  of 
wine?” 

God  said,  “In  the  treading  of  the  press  these 
are  they  who  came  to  the  top;  they  have 
climbed  out  over  the  edge  and  filled  their  jars 
from  below,  and  have  gone  into  the  house.” 
And  I said,  “And  if  they  had  fallen  as  they 
climbed?” 

God  said,  “They  had  been  wine.” 

I stood  a way  off  watching  in  the  sunshine, 
and  I shivered. 

God  lay  in  the  sunshine  watching  too. 

Then  there  rose  one  among  the  feasters,  who 
said,  “My  brethren,  let  us  pray!” 

And  all  the  men  and  women  rose:  and  strong 
men  bowed  their  heads,  and  mothers  folded 
their  little  children’s  hands  together,  and 
turned  their  faces  upward,  to  the  roof.  And 
he  who  first  had  risen  stood  at  the  table  head 
and  stretched  out  both  his  hands,  and  his  beard 
was  long  and  white,  and  his  sleeves  and  his 
beard  had  been  dipped  in  wine;  and  because 
the  sleeves  were  wide  and  full  they  held  much 
wine,  and  it  dropped  down  upon  the  floor. 

And  he  cried,  “My  brothers  and  my  sisters, 
let  us  pray.” 


DREAMS. 


75 


And  all  the  men  and  women  answered,  “Let 
us  pray.  ” 

He  cried,  “For  this  fair  banquet-house  we 
thank  thee,  Lord.  ” 

And  all  the  men  and  women  said,  “We  thank 
thee,  Lord.  ” 

“Thine  is  this  house,  dear  Lord." 

“Thine  is  this  house.* ’ 

“For  us  hast  thou  made  it." 

“For  us.” 

“Oh,  fill  our  jars  with  wine,  dear  Lord.” 

“Our  jars  with  wine.  ” 

“Give  peace  and  plenty  in  our  time,  dear 
Lord.  * * 

“Peace  and  plenty  in  our  time.  ” — I said  to 
God,  “Whom  is  it  they  are  talking  to?”  God 
said,  “Do  I know  whom  they  speak  of?”  And 
I saw  they  were  looking  up  at  the  roof;  but 
out  in  the  sunshine,  God  lay. 

“ dear  Lord!” 

“Dear  Lord.” 

“Our  children’s  children,  Lord,  shall  rise 
and  call  thee  blessed.” 

“Our  children’s  children,  Lord.” — I said  to 
God,  “The  grapes  are  crying!”  God  said, 
“Still!  I hear  them” — —“shall  call  thee 
blessed.  ” 

“Shall  call  thee  blessed.” 


76 


DREAMS. 


“Pour  forth  more  wine  upon  us,  Lord.” 
“More  wine.  ” 

“More  wine.” 

“More  wine!” 

“Wine!  !” 

“Wine!  ! ” 

“Wine  ! ! ! ” 

“Dear  Lord!” 

Then  men  and  women  sat  down  and  the 
feast  went  on.  And  mothers  poured  out  wine 
and  fed  their  little  children  with  it,  and  men 
held  up  the  cup  to  women’s  lips  and  cried, 
“Beloved!  drink,”  and  women  filled  their 
lovers’  flagons  and  held  them  up ; and  yet  the 
feast  went  on. 

And  after  a while  I looked,  and  I saw  the 
curtain  that  hung  behind  the  house  moving. 

I said  to  God,  “Is  it  a wind?” 

God  said,  “A  wind.” 

And  it  seemed  to  me,  that  against  the  cur- 
tain I saw  pressed  the  forms  of  men  and 
women.  And  after  a while  the  feasters  saw 
it  move,  and  they  whispered,  one  to  another. 
Then  some  rose  and  gathered  the  most  worn- 
out  cups,  and  into  them  they  put  what  was  left 
at  the  bottom  of  other  vessels.  Mothers  whis- 
pered to  their  children,  “Do  not  drink  all,  save 
a little  drop  when  you  have  drunk.”  And 


DREAMS. 


77 


when  they  had  collected  all  the  dregs  they 
slipped  the  cups  out  under  the  bottom  of  the 
curtain  without  lifting  it.  After  a while  the 
curtain  left  off  moving. 

I said  to  God,  “How  is  it  so  quiet ?” 

He  said,  “They  have  gone  away  to  drink  it.  ” 
I said,  “They  drink  it — their  own!” 

God  said,  “It  comes  from  this  side  of  the 
curtain,  and  they  are  very  thirsty.0 

Then  the  feast  went  on,  and  after  a while  I 
saw  a small,  white  hand  slipped  in  below  the 
curtain’s  edge  along  the  floor;  and  it  motioned 
toward  the  wine  jars. 

And  I said  to  God,  “Why  is  that  hand  so 
bloodless?” 

And  God  said,  “It  is  a wine-pressed  hand.” 
And  men  saw  it  and  started  to  their  feet; 
and  women  cried,  and  ran  to  the  great  wine 
jars,  and  threw  their  arms  around  them,  and 
cried,  “Ours,  our  own,  our  beloved!”  and 
twined  their  long  hair  about  them. 

I said  to  God,  “Why  are  they  frightened  of 
that  one  small  hand?” 

God  answered,  “Because  it  is  so  white.” 
And  men  ran  in  a great  company  toward  the 
curtain,  and  struggled  there.  I heard  them 
strike  upon  the  floor.  And  when  they  moved 


18 


DREAMS. 


away  the  curtain  hung  smooth  and  .still ; and 
there  was  a small  stain  upon  the  floor. 

I said  to  God,  “Why  do  they  not  wash  it 
out?” 

God  said,  “They  cannot.” 

And  they  took  small  stones  and  put  them 
down  along  the  edge  of  the  curtain  to  keep 
it  down.  Then  the  men  and  women  sat  down 
again  at  the  tables. 

And  I said  to  God,  “Will  those  stones  keep 
it  down?” 

God  said,  “What  think  you?” 

“I  said,  “If  the  wind  blew ” 

God  said,  “If  the  wind  blew?” 

And  the  feast  went  on. 

And  suddenly  I cried  to  God,  “If  one  should 
rise  among  them,  even  of  themselves,  and 
start  up  from  the  table  and  should  cast  away 
his  cup,  and  cry,  ‘My  brothers  and  sisters, 
stay!  what  is  it  that  we  drink?’ — and  with  his 
sword  should  cut  in  two  the  curtain,  and  hold- 
ing wide  the  fragments,  cry,  ‘Brothers,  sisters, 
see!  it  is  not  wine,  not  wine,  notwine!  My 
brothers,  oh,  my  sisters — !’  and  he  should  over- 
turn the ” 

God  said,  “Be  still! — , see  there.” 

I looked:  before  the  banquet-house,  among 
the  grass,  I saw  a row  of  mounds,  flowers 


DREAMS. 


79 


covered  them,  and  gilded  marble  stood  at  their 
heads.  I asked  God  what  they  were. 

He  answered,  “They  are  the  graves  of  those 
who  rose  up  at  the  feast  and  cried.  ” 

And  I asked  God  how  they  came  there. 

He  said,  “The  men  of  the  banquet-house 
rose  and  cast  them  down  backward.  * 

I said,  “Who  buried  them?” 

God  said,  “The  men  who  cast  them  down.” 
I said,  “How  came  it  that  they  threw  them 
down,  and  then  set  marble  over  them?” 

God  said,  “Because  the  bones  cried  out,  they 
covered  them.” 

And  among  the  grass  and  weeds  I saw  an 
unburied  body  lying;  and  I asked  God  why  it 
was. 

God  said,  “Because  it  was  thrown  down  only 
yesterday.  In  a little  while,  when  the  flesh 
shall  have  fallen  from  its  bones,  they  will 
bury  it  also,  and  plant  flowers  over  it.” 

And  still  the  feast  went  on. 

Men  and  women  sat  at  the  tables  quaffiing 
great  bowls.  Some  rose,  and  threw  their 
arms  about  each  other,  and  danced  and  sang. 
They  pledged  each  other  in  the  wine,  and 
kissed  each  other's  blood-red  lips. 

Higher  and  higher  grew  the  revels. 

Men,  when  they  had  drunk  till  they  could  no 


80 


DREAMS. 


longer,  threw  what  was  left  in  their  glasses  tip 
to  the  roof,  and  let  it  fall  back  in  cascades. 
Women  dyed  their  children’s  garments  in  the 
wine,  and  fed  them  on  it  till  their  tiny  mouths 
were  red.  Sometimes,  as  the  dancers  whirled, 
they  overturned  a vessel,  and  their  garments 
were  bespattered.  Children  sat  upon  the  floor 
with  great  bowls  of  wine,  and  swam  rose  leaves 
on  it  for  boats.  They  put  their  hands  in  the 
wine  and  blew  large  red  bubbles. 

And  higher  and  higher  grew  the  revels,  and 
wilder  the  dancing,  and  louder  and  louder  the 
singing.  But  here  and  there  among  the  rev- 
elers were  those  who  did  not  revel.  I saw  that 
at  the  tables,  here  and  there,  were  men  who 
sat  with  their  elbows  on  the  board  and  hands 
shading  their  eyes;  they  looked  into  the  wine- 
cup  beneath  them,  and  did  not  drink.  And 
when  one  touched  them  lightly  on  the  shoulder, 
bidding  them  to  rise  and  dance  and  sing,  they 
started,  and  they  looked  down,  and  sat  there 
watching  the  wine  in  the  cup,  but  they  did 
not  move. 

And  here  and  there  I saw  a woman  sit  apart. 
The  others  danced  and  sang  and  fed  their 
children,  but  she  sat  silent  with  her  head  aside 
as  though  she  listened.  Her  little  children 
plucked  her  gown ; she  did  not  see  them ; she 


DREAMS. 


81 


was  listening  to  some  sound,  but  she  did  not 
stir. 

The  revels  grew  higher.  Men  drank  till 
they  could  drink  no  longer,  and  lay  their  heads 
upon  the  table  sleeping  heavily.  Women  who 
could  dance  no  more  leaned  back  on  the 
benches  with  their  heads  against  their  lovers* 
shoulders.  Little  children,  sick  with  wine, 
lay  down  upon  the  edges  of  their  mothers' 
robes.  Sometimes  a man  rose  suddenly  and 
as  he  staggered  struck  the  tables  and  over- 
threw the  benches;  some  leaned  upon  the  bal- 
ustrades sick  unto  death.  Here  and  there  one 
rose  who  staggered  to  the  wine  jars  and  lay 
down  beside  them.  He  turned  the  wine  tap, 
but  sleep  overcame  him  as  he  lay  there,  and 
the  wine  ran  out. 

Slowly  the  thin,  red  stream  ran  across  the 
white  marbled  floor;  it  reached  the  stone 
steps;  slowly,  slowly,  slowly  it  trickled  down, 
from  step  to  step  from  step  to  step;  then  it 
sank  into  the  earth.  A thin  white  smoke 
rose  from  it. 

I was  silent;  I could  not  breathe;  but  God 
called  me  to  come  further. 

And  after  I had  traveled  for  a while  I came 
where  on  seven  hills  lay  the  ruins  of  a mighty 

6 Dreams 


82 


DREAMS. 


banquet-house  larger  and  stronger  than  the 
one  which  I had  seen  standing. 

I said  to  God,  “What  did  the  men  who  built 
it  here?” 

God  said,  “They  feasted.” 

I said,  “On  what?” 

God  said,  “On  wine.” 

And  I looked;  and  it  seemed  tQ.  me  that 
behind  the  ruins  lay  still  a large  circular  hol- 
low within  the  earth  where  a foot  of  the  wine- 
press had  stood. 

I said  to  God,  “How  came  it  that  this  large 
house  fell?” 

God  said,  “Because  the  earth  was  sodden.” 

He  called  me  to  come  further. 

And  at  last  we  came  upon  a hill  where  blue 
waters  played,  and  white  marble  lay  upon  the 
earth.  I said  to  God,  “What  was  hei^e  once?” 

God  said,  “A  pleasure-house.” 

I looked,  and  at  my  feet  great  pillars  lay.  I 
cried  aloud  for  joy  to  God,  “The  marble 
blossoms!” 

God  said,  “Ay,  ’twas  a fairy  house.  There 
has  not  been  one  like  to  it,  nor  ever  shall  be. 
The  pillars  and  the  porticos  blossomed,  and  the 
wine-cups  were  as  gathered  flowers;  on  this 
side  all  the  curtain  was  broidered  with  fair 
designs,  the  stitching  was  of  gold.  ’ ’ 


DREAMS. 


83 


I said  to  God,  “How  came  it  that  it  fell?” 
God  said,  “On  the  side  of  the  wine-press  it 
was  dark.” 

And  as  we  traveled,  we  came  where  lay  a 
mighty  ridge  of  sand,  and  a dark  river  ran 
there ; and  there  rose  two  vast  mounds. 

I said  to  God,  “They  are  very  mighty.” 

God  said,  “Ay,  exceeding  great.” 

And  I listened. 

God  asked  me  what  I was  listening  to. 

And  I said,  “A  sound  of  weeping,  and  I 
hear  the  sound  of  strokes,  but  I cannot  tell 
whence  it  comes.  ” 

God  said,  “It  is  the  echo  of  the  wine-press 
lingering  still  among  the  coping  stones  upon 
the  mounds.  A banquet-house  stood  here.” 
And  he  called  me  to  come  further. 

Upon  a barren  hillside,  where  the  soil  was 
arid,  God  called  me  to  stand  still.  And  I 
looked  around. 

God  said,  “There  was  a feasting-house  here 
once  upon  a time.” 

I said  to  God,  “I  see  no  mark  of  any!” 

God  said,  “There  was  yet  left  one  stone  upon 
another  that  has  not  been  thrown  down.” 
And  I looked  round;  and  on  the  hillside  was 
a lonely  grave. 

I said  to  God,  “Who  lies  there?” 


84 


DREAMS. 


He  said,  “a  vine  truss,  bruised  in  the  wine- 
press !” 

And  at  the  head  of  the  grave  stood  a cross, 
and  on  its  foot  lay  a crown  of  thorns. 

And  as  I turned  to  go,  I looked  backward. 
The  wine-press  and  the  banquet-house  were 
gone;  but  the  grave  yet  stood. 

And  when  I came  to  the  edge  of  a long  ridge 
there  opened  out  before  me  a wide  plain  of 
sand.  And  when  I looked  downward  I saw 
great  stones  lie  shattered ; and  the  desert  sand 
had  half  covered  them  over. 

«I  said  to  God,  “There  is  writing  on  them, 
but  I cannot  read  it.” 

And  God  blew  aside  the  desert  sand,  and  I 
read  the  writing:  “Weighed  in  the  balance, 
and  found — ” but  the  last  word  was  wanting. 

And  I said  to  God,  “It  was  a banquet- 
house.” 

God  said,  “Ay,  a banquet-house.” 

I said,  “There  was  a wine-press  here?” 

God  said,  “There  was  a wine-press.” 

I asked  no  further  question.  I was  very 
weary;  I shaded  my  eyes  with  my  hand,  and 
looked  through  the  pink  evening  light. 

Far  off,  across  the  sand,  I saw  two  figures 
standing.  With  wings  unfolded  high  above 
their  heads,  and  stern  faces  set,  neither  man 


DREAMS. 


85 


nor  beast,  they  looked  out  across  the  desert 
sand,  watching,  watching,  watching!  I did  not 
ask  God  what  they  were,  for  I knew  what  the 
answer  would  be. 

And,  further  and  yet  further,  in  the  evening 
light,  I looked  with  my  shaded  eyes. 

Far  off,  where  the  sands  were  thick  and 
heavy,  I saw  a solitary  pillar  standing;  the 
crown  had  fallen,  and  the  sand  had  buried  it. 
On  the  broken  pillar  sat  a gray  owl  of  the 
desert,  with  folded  wings;  and  in  the  evening 
light  I saw  the  desert  fox  creep  past  it,  trail- 
ing his  brush  across  the  sand. 

Further,  yet  further,  as  I looked  across  the 
desert,  I saw  the  sand  gathered  into  heaps  as 
though  it  covered  something. 

I cried  to  God,  “Oh,  I am  so  weary.” 

God  said,  “You  have  seen  only  one  half  of 
Hell.'” 

I said,  ‘I  cannot  see  more,  I am  afraid  of 
Hell.  In  my  own  narrow  little  path  I dare  not 
walk,  because  I think  that  one  has  dug  a pit- 
fall  for  me ; and  if  I put  my  hand  to  take  a 
fruit  I draw  it  back  again  because  I think  it 
has  been  kissed  already.  If  I look  out  across 
the  plains,  the  mounds  are  burial  heaps;  and 
when  I pass  among  the  stones  I hear  them  cry- 
ing aloud.  When  I see  men  dancing  I hear 


86 


DREAMS. 


the  time  beaten  in  with  sobs ; and  their  wine 
is  living!  Oh,  I cannot  bear  Hell!” 

God  said,  “ Where  will  you  go?” 

I said  ‘‘To  the  earth  from  which  I came;  it 
was  better  there.” 

And  God  laughed  at  me;  and  I wondered 
why  he  laughed. 

God  said,  ‘‘Come,  and  I will  show  you 
Heaven.” 

And  partly  I awoke.  It  was  still  and  dark ; 
the  sound  of  the  carriages  had  died  in  the 
street ; the  woman  who  laughed  was  gone ; and 
the  policeman’s  tread  was  heard  no  more.  In 
the  dark  it  seemed  as  if  a great  hand  lay  upon 
my  heart,  and  crushed  it.  I tried  to  breathe 
and  tossed  from  side  to  side ; and  then  again 
I fell  asleep,  and  dreamed. 

God  took  me  to  the  edge  of  that  world.  It 
ended.  I looked  down.  The  gulf,  it  seemed 
to  me,  was  fathomless;  and  then  I saw  two 
bridges  crossing  it  that  both  sloped  upward. 

I said  to  God,  ‘‘Is  there  no  other  way  by 
which  men  cross  it?” 

God  said,  ‘‘One;  it  rises  far  from  here  and 
slopes  straight  upward.  ” 

I asked  God  what  the  bridges’  names  were. 

God  said,  ‘‘What  matter  for  the  names? 


DREAMS. 


87 


Call  them  the  Good,  the  True,  the  Beautiful, 
if  you  will  — you  will  yet  not  understand 
them.” 

I asked  God  how  it  was  I could  not  see  the 
third. 

God  said,  “It  is  seen  only  by  those  who 
climb  it.  ” 

I said,  ‘‘Do  they  all  lead  to  one  Heaven?” 

God  said,  ‘‘All  Heaven  is  one:  nevertheless 
some  parts  are  higher  than  others ; those  who 
reach  the  higher  may  always  go  down  to  rest 
in  the  lower ; but  those  in  the  lower  may  not 
have  strength  to  climb  to  the  higher;  never- 
theless the  light  is  all  one.” 

And  I saw  over  the  bridge  nearest  me,  which 
was  wider  than  the  other,  countless  footmarks 
go.  I asked  God  why  so  many  went  over  it. 

God  said,  ‘‘It  slopes  less  deeply,  and  leads  to 
the  first  heaven.” 

And  I saw  that  some  of  the  footmarks  were 
of  feet  returning.  I asked  God  how  it  was. 

He  said,  ‘‘No  man  who  has  once  entered 
Heaven  ever  leaves  it;  but  some,  when  they 
have  gone  halfway,  turn  back,  because  they 
are  afraid  there  is  no  land  beyond.” 

I said,  ‘‘Has  none  ever  returned-?” 

God  said,  ‘‘No;  once  in  Heaven  always  in 
Heaven.” 


88 


DREAMS. 


And  God  took  me  over.  And  when  we  came 
to  one  of  the  great  doors — for  Heaven  has 
more  doors  than  one,  and  they  are  all  open — 
the  posts  rose  up  so  high  on  either  side  I could 
not  see  the  top,  nor  indeed  if  there  were  any. 

And  it  seemed  to  me  so  wide  that  all  Hell 
could  go  in  through  it. 

I said  to  God,  “Which  is  the  larger,  Heaven 
or  Hell?” 

God  said,  “Hell  is  as  wide,  but  Heaven  is 
deeper.  All  Hell  could  be  engulfed  in  Heaven, 
but  all  Heaven  could  not  be  engulfed  in 
Hell.” 

•And  we  entered.  It  was  a still  great  land. 
The  mountains  rose  on  every  hand,  and  there 
was  a pale  clear  light;  and  I saw  it  came  from 
the  rocks  and  stones.  I asked  God  how  it  was. 

But  God  did  not  answer  me. 

I looked  and  wondered,  for  I had  thought 
Heaven  would  be  otherwise.  And  after  a 
while  it  began  to  grow  brighter,  as  if  the  day 
were  breaking,  and  I asked  God  if  the  sun 
were  not  going  to  rise. 

God  said,  “No;  we  are  coming  to  where  the 
people  are. 9 9 

And  as  we  went  on  it  grew  brighter  and 
brighter,  till  it  was  burning  day;  and  on  the 
rocks  were  flowers  blooming,  and  trees  bios- 


DREAMS. 


89 


somed  at  the  roadside ; and  streams  of  water 
ran  everywhere,  and  I heard  the  birds  sing- 
ing; I asked  God  where  they  were. 

God  said,  “It  is  the  people  calling  to  one 
another.” 

And  when  we  came  nearer  I saw  them  walk- 
ing, and  they  shone  as  they  walked.  I asked 
God  how  it  was  they  wore  no  covering. 

God  said,  “Because  all  their  body  gives  the 
light;  they  dare  not  cover  any  part.” 

And  I asked  God  what  they  were  doing. 

God  said,  “Shining  on  the  plants,  that  they 
may  grow.  ” 

And  I saw  that  some  were  working  in  com- 
panies, and  some  alone,  but  most  were  in  twos 
sometimes  two  men  and  sometimes  two 
women ; but  generally  there  was  one  man  and 
one  woman ; and  I asked  God  how  it  was. 

God  said,  “When  one  man  and  one  woman 
shine  together,  it  makes  the  most  perfect  light. 
Many  plants  need  that  for  their  growing. 
Nevertheless,  there  are  more  kinds  of  plants 
in  Heaven  than  one,  and  they  need  many  kinds 
of  light.” 

And  one  from  among  the  people  came  run- 
ning toward  me;  and  when  he  came  near  it 
seemed  to  me  that  he  and  I had  played 
together  when  we  were  little  children,  and 


90 


DREAMS. 


that  we  had  been  born  on  the  same  day.  And 
I told  God  what  I felt.  God  said,  “All  men 
feel  so  in  Heaven  when  another  comes  toward 
them.” 

And  he  who  ran  toward  me  held  my  hand, 
and  led  me  through  the  bright  lights.  And 
when  we  came  among  the  trees  he  sang  aloud, 
and  his  companion  answered,  and  it  was  a 
woman,  and  he  showed  me  to  her.  She  said, 
“He  must  have  water;”  and  she  took  some  in 
her  hands,  and  fed  me  (I  had  been  afraid  to 
drink  of  the  water  in  Hell),  and  they  gathered 
fruit  for  me,  and  gave  it  me  to  eat.  They  said, 
“We  shone  long  to  make  it  ripen,”  and  they 
laughed  together  as  they  saw  me  eat  it. 

The  man  said,  “He  is  very  weary;  he  must 
sleep”  (for  I had  not  dared  to  sleep  in  Hell), 
and  he  laid  my  head  on  his  companion’s  knee 
and  spread  her  hair  out  over  me.  I slept,  and 
all  the  while  in  my  sleep  I thought  I heard  the 
birds  calling  across  me.  And  when  I woke  it 
was  like  early  morning  with  the  dew  on 
everything. 

And  the  man  took  my  hand  and  led  me  to  a 
hidden  spot  among  the  rocks.  The  ground 
was  very  hard,  but  out  of  it  were  sprouting 
tiny  plants,  and  there  was  a little  stream  run- 
ning. He  said,  “This  is  a garden  we  are  mak 


DREAMS. 


91 


ing,  no  one  else  knows  of  it.  We  shine  here 
every  day;  see,  the  ground  has  cracked  with 
our  shining,  and  this  little  stream  is  bursting 
out.  See,  the  flowers  are  growing.  ° 

And  he  climbed  on  the  rocks  and  picked 
from  above  two  little  flowers  with  dew  on 
them,  and  gave  them  to  me.  And  I took  one 
in  each  hand;  my  hands  shone  as  I held  them. 
He  said,  “This  garden  is  for  all  when  it  is 
finished.’'  And  he  went  away  to  his  compan- 
ion, and  I went  out  into  the  great  pathway. 

And  as  I walked  in  the  light  I heard  a loud 
sound  of  much  singing.  And  when  I came 
nearer  I saw  one  with  closed  eyes,  singing, 
and  his  fellows  were  standing  round  him;  and 
the  light  on  the  closed  eyes  was  brighter  than 
anything  I had  seen  in  Heaven.  I asked  one 
who  it  was.  And  he  said  “Hush!  Our  sing- 
ing bird.” 

And  I asked  why  the  eyes  shone  so. 

And  he  said,  “They  cannot  see,  and  we  have 
kissed  them  till  they  shone  so.  ” 

And  the  people  gathered  closer  round  him. 
And  when  I went  a little  further  I saw  a 
crowd  crossing  among  the  trees  of  light  with 
great  laughter.  When  they  came  close  I saw 
they  carried  one  without  hands  or  feet.  And 


92 


DREAMS. 


a light  came  from  the  maimed  limbs  so  bright 
that  I could  not  look  at  them. 

And  I said  to  one,  “What  is  it?” 

He  answered,  “This  is  our  brother  who  once 
fell  and  lost  his  hands  and  feet,  and  since  then 
he  cannot  help  himself;  but  we  have  touched 
the  maimed  stumps  so  often  that  now  they 
shine  brighter  than  anything  in  Heaven.  We 
pass  him  on  that  he  may  shine  on  things  that 
need  much  heat.  No  one  is  allowed  to  keep 
him  long,  he  belongs  to  all;”  and  they  went 
on  among  the  trees. 

I said  to  God,  “This  is  a strange  land.  I 
had  thought  blindness  and  maimedness  were 
great  evils.  Here  men  make  them  to  a rejoic- 
ing.” 

God  said,  “Didst  thou  then  think  that  love 
had  need  of  eyes  and  hands!” 

And  I walked  down  the  shining  way  with 
palms  on  either  hand.  I said  to  God,  “Ever 
since  I was  a little  child  and  sat  alone  and 
cried,  I have  dreamed  of  this  land,  and  now 
I will  not  go  away  again.  I will  stay  here 
and  shine.”  And  I began  to  take  off  my 
garments,  that  I might  shine  as  others  in  that 
land;  but  when  I looked  down  I saw  my  body 
gave  no  light.  I said  to  God,  “How  is  it?” 


DREAMS. 


93 


God  said,  “Is  there  no  dark  blood  in  your 
heart;  is  it  bitter  against  none?’1 

And  I said,  “Yes ;”  and  I thought — 

“Now  is  the  time  when  I will  tell  God,  that 
which  I have  been,  meaning  to  tell  him  all 
along,  how  badly  my  fellow-men  have  treated 
me.  How  they  have  misunderstood  me. 
How  I have  intended  to  be  magnanimous  and 

generous  to  them,  and  they “ And  I 

began  to  tell  God;  but  when  I looked  down 
all  the  flowers  were  withering  under  my 
breath,  and  I was  silent. 

And  God  called  me  to  come  up  higher,  and 
I gathered  my  mantle  about  me  and  followed 
him. 

And  the  rocks  grew  higher  and  steeper  on 
every  side;  and  we  came  at  last  to  a place 
where  a great  mountain  rose,  whose  top  was 
lost  in  the  clouds.  And  on  its  side  I saw  men 
working;  and  they  picked  at  the  earth  with 
huge  picks;  and  I saw  that  they  labored 
mightily.  And  some  labored  in  companies, 
but  most  labored  singly.  And  I saw  the  drops 
of  sweat  fall  from  their  foreheads,  and  the 
muscles  of  their  arms  stand  out  with  labor. 
And  I said,  “I  had  not  thought  in  heaven  to 
see  men  labor  so!”  And  I thought  of  the 
garden  where  men  sang  and  loved,  and  I 


94 


DREAMS. 


wondered  that  any  should  choose  to  labor  on 
that  bare  mountain-side.  And  I saw  upon 
the  foreheads  of  the  men  as  they  worked  a 
light,  and  the  drops  which  fell  from  them  as 
they  worked  had  light. 

And  I asked  God  what  they  were  seeking  for. 

And  God  touched  my  eyes,  and  I saw  that 
what  they  found  were  small  stones,  which 
had  been  too  bright  for  me  to  see  before ; and 
I saw  that  the  light  of  the  stones  and  the  light 
on  the  men’s  foreheads  was  the  same.  And 
I saw  that  when  one  found  a stone  he  passed 
it  on  to  his  fellow,  and  he  to  another,  and  he 
to  another.  No  man  kept  the  stone  he  found. 

And  at  times  they  gathered  in  great  company 
about  when  a large  stone  was  found,  and 
raised  a great  shout  so  that  the  sky  rang;  then 
they  worked  on  again. 

And  I asked  God  what  they  did  with  the 
stones  they  found  at  last.  Then  God  touched 
my  eyes  again  to  make  them  stronger;  and  I 
looked,  and  at  my  very  feet  was  a mighty 
crown.  The  light  streamed  out  from  it. 

God  said,  “Each  stone  as  they  find  it  is  set 
here.  ” 

And  the  crown  was  wrought  according  to  a 
marvelous  pattern;  one  pattern  ran  through 
all,  yet  each  part  was  different. 


DREAMS. 


95 


I said  to  God,  “How  does  each  man  know 
where  to  set  his  stone,  so  that  the  pattern  is 
worked  out?” 

God  said,  “Because  in  the  light  his  forehead 
sheds  each  man  sees  faintly  outlined  that  full 
crown.  ” 

And  I said,  “But  how  is  it  that  each  stone 
is  joined  along  its  edges  to  its  fellows,  so  that 
there  is  no  seam  anywhere?” 

God  said,  “The  stones  are  alive;  they 
grow.” 

And  I said,  “But  what  does  each  man  gain 
by  his  working?” 

God  said,  “He  sees  his  outline  filled.” 

I said,  “D ut  those  stones  which  are  last  set 
cover  those  which  were  first;  and  those  will 
again  be  covered  by  those  which  come  later.” 

God  said,  “They  are  covered,  but  not  hid. 
The  light  is  the  light  of  all.  Without  the  first, 
no  last.  ” 

And  I said  to  God,  “When  will  this  crown 
be  ended?” 

And  God  said,  “Look  up!” 

I looked  up;  and  I saw  the  mountain  tower 
above  me,  but  its  summit  I could  not  see;  it 
was  lost  in  the  clouds. 

God  said  no  more. 

And  I looked  at  the  crown ; then  a longing 


96 


DREAMS. 


seized  me.  Like  the  passion  of  a mother  for 
the  child  whom  death  has  taken;  like  the 
yearning  of  a friend  for  the  friend  whom  life 
has  buried;  like  the  hunger  of  dying  eyes  for  a 
life  that  is  slipping;  like  the  thirst  of  a soul 
for  love  at  its  first  spring  waking,  so,  but 
fiercer  was  the  longing  in  me. 

I cried  to  God,  “I  too  will  work  here;  I too 
will  set  stones  in  the  wonderful  pattern;  it 
shall  grow  beneath  my  hand.  And  if  it  be 
that,  laboring  here  for  years,  I should  not  find 
one  stone,  at  least  I will  be  with  the  men  that 
labor  here.  I shall  hear  tfyeir  shout  of  joy 
when  each  stone  is  found;  I shall  join  in  their 
triumph,  I shall  shout  among  them;  I shall 
see  the  crown  grow.  *'  So  great  was  my  long- 
ing as  I looked  at  the  crown,  I thought  a faint 
light  fell  from  my  forehead  also. 

God  said,  “Do  you  not  hear  the  singing  in 
the  gardens?’' 

I said,  “No,  I hear  nothing;  I see  only  the 
crown.’'  And  I was  dumb  with  longing;  I 
forgot  all  the  flowers  of  the  lower  Heaven  and 
the  singing  there.  And  I ran  forward,  and 
threw  my  mantle  on  the  earth  and  bent  to 
seize  one  of  the  mighty  tools  which  lay  there. 
I could  not  lift  it  from  the  earth. 


DREAMS. 


97 


God  said,  “Where  hast  thou  earned  the 
strength  to  raise  it?  Take  up  thy  mantle.” 
And  I took  up  my  mantle  and  followed 
where  God  called  me ; but  I looked  back,  and 
I saw  the  crown  burning,  my  crown  that  I had 
loved. 

Higher  and  higher  we  climbed,  and  the  air 
grew  thinner.  Not  a tree  or  plant  was  on 
the  bare  rocks,  and  the  stillness  was  unbroken. 
My  breath  came  hard  and  quick,  and  the 
blood  crept  within  my  finger-tips.  I said  to 
God,  “Is  this  Heaven?” 

God  said,  “Yes;  it  is  the  highest.” 

And  still  we  climbed.  I said  to  God,  “I 
cannot  breathe  so  high.” 

God  said,  “Because  the  air  is  pure?” 

And  my  head  grew  dizzy,  and  as  I climbed 
the  blood  burst  from  my  finger-tips. 

Then  we  came  out  upon  a lonely  mountain- 
top. 

No  living  being  moved  there;  but  far  off  on 
a solitary  peak  I saw  a lonely  figure  standing. 
Whether  it  were  man  or  woman  I could  not 
tell ; for  partly  it  seemed  the  figure  of  a woman, 
but  its  limbs  were  the  mighty  limbs  of  a man. 
I asked  God  whether  it  was  man  or  woman. 
God  said,  “In  the  least  Heaven  sex  reigns 

7 Dreams 


98 


DREAMS. 


supreme;  in  the  higher  it  is  not  noticed;  but 
in  the  highest  it  does  not  exist.  ” 

And  I saw  the  figure  bend  over  its  work,  and 
labor  mightily,  but  what  it  labored  at  I could 
not  see. 

I said  to  God,  “How  came  it  here?” 

God  said,  “By  a bloody  stair.  Step  by  step 
it  mounted  from  the  lowest  Hell,  and  day  by 
day  as  Hell  grew  farther  and  Heaven  no 
nearer,  it  hung  alone  between  two  worlds. 
Hour  by  hour  in  that  bitter  struggle  its  limbs 
grew  larger,  till  there  fell  from  it  rag  by  rag 
the  garments  which  it  started  with.  Drops 
fell  from  its  eyes  as  it  strained  them ; each  step 
it  climbed  was  wet  with  blood.  Then  it  came 
out  here.” 

And  I thought  of  the  garden  where  men 
sang  with  their  arms  round  one  another,  and 
the  mountain-side  where  they  worked  in  com- 
pany. And  I shuddered. 

And  I said,  “Is  it  not  terribly  alone  here?” 
God  said,  “It  is  never  alone!” 

I said,  “What  has  it  for  all  its  labor?  I see 
nothing  return  to  it.” 

Then  God  touched  my  eyes,  and  I saw 
stretched  out  beneath  us  the  plains  of  Heaven 
and  Hell,  and  all  that  was  within  them. 

God  said,  “From  that  lone  height  on  which 


DREAMS. 


99 


he  stands,  all  things  are  open.  To  him  is 
clear  the  shining  in  the  garden,  he  sees  the 
flower  break  forth  and  the  streams  sparkle; 
no  shout  is  raised  upon  the  mountain-side  but 
his  ear  may  hear  it.  He  sees  the  crown  grow 
and  the  light  shoot  from  it.  All  Hell  is  open 
to  him.  He  sees  the  paths  mount  upward. 
To  him,  Hell  is  the  seed  ground  from  which 
Heaven  springs.  He  sees  the  sap  ascend- 
ing/ ’ 

And  I saw  the  figure  bend  over  its  work,  and 
the  light  from  its  face  fell  upon  it. 

And  I said  to  God,  “What  is  it  making ?” 

And  God  said,  “Music!” 

And  he  touched  my  ears,  and  I heard  it. 

And  after  a long  while  I whispered  to  God, 
“This  is  Heaven/’ 

And  God  asked  me  why  I was  crying.  But 
I could  not  answer  for  joy„ 

And  the  face  turned  from  its  work,  and  the 
light  fell  upon  me.  Then  it  grew  so  bright  I 
could  not  see  things  separately;  and  which 
were  God,  or  the  man,  or  I,  I could  not  tell; 
we  were  all  blended.  I cried  to  God,  “Where 
are  you?”  but  there  was  no  answer,  only  music 
and  light 

Afterward,  when  it  had  grown  so  dark  again 
that  I could  see  things  separately,  I found  that 


100 


DREAMS. 


I was  standing  there  wrapped  tight  in  my  little 
old,  brown,  earthly  cloak,  and  God  and  the 
man  were  separated  from  each  other,  and  from 
me. 

I did  not  dare  say  I would  go  and  make 
music  beside  the  man.  I knew  I could  not 
reach  even  to  his  knee,  nor  move  the  instru- 
ment he  played.  But  I thought  I would  stand 
there  on  my  little  peak  and  sing  an  accompan- 
iment to  that  great  music.  And  I tried;  but 
my  voice  failed.  It  piped  and  quavered.  I 
could  not  sing  that  tune.  I was  silent. 

Then  God  pointed  to  me,  that  I should  go 
out  of  Heaven. 

And  I cried  to  God,  “Oh,  let  me  stay  here. 
If  indeed  it  be,  as  I know  it  is,  that  I am  not 
great  enough  to  sing  upon  the  mountain,  nor 
strong  enough  to  labor  on  its  side,  nor  bright 
enough  to  shine  and  love  within  the  garden, 
at  least  let  me  go  down  to  the  great  gateway ; 
humbly  I will  kneel  there  sweeping;  and,  as 
the  saved  pass  in,  I will  see  the  light  upon 
their  faces.  I shall  hear  the  singing  in  the 
garden,  and  the  shout  upon  the  hillside ” 

God  said,  “It  may  not  be;’’  he  pointed. 

And  I cried,  “If  I may  not  stay  in  Heaven 
then  let  me  go  down  to  Hell,  and  I will  grasp 
the  hands  of  men  and  women  there;  and 


DREAMS. 


101 


slowly,  holding  one  another’s  hands,  we  will 
work  our  way  upward.” 

Still  God  pointed. 

And  I threw  myself  upon  the  earth  and 
cried,  “Earth  is  so  small,  so  mean  It  is  not 
meet  a soul  should  see  Heaven  and  be  cast 
out  again” 

And  God  laid  his  hand  on  me,  and  said,  “Go 
back  to  earth;  that  which  you  seek  is  there.” 

I awoke:  it  was  morning.  The  silence  and 
darkness  of  the  night  were  gone.  Through 
my  narrow  attic  window  I saw  the  light  of 
another  day.  I closed  my  eyes  and  turned 
toward  the  wall:  I could  not  look  upon  the 
dull  gray  world. 

In  the  streets  below,  men  and  women 
streamed  past  by  hundreds;  I heard  the  beat 
of  their  feet  on  the  pavement.  Men  on  their 
way  to  business;  servants  on  errands;  boys 
hurrying  to  school;  weary  professors  pacing 
slowly  the  old  street;  prostitutes,  men  and 
women,  dragging  their  feet  wearily  after  last 
night’s  debauch;  artists  with  quick,  impa* 
tient  footsteps;  tradesmen  for  orders ; children 
to  seek  for  bread.  I heard  the  stream  beat 
by.  And  at  the  alley’s  mouth,  at  the  street 
corner,  a broken  barrelorgan  was  playing; 


102 


DREAMS. 


sometimes  it  quavered  and  almost  stopped, 
then  went  on  again,  like  a broken  human 
voice. 

I listened : my  heart  scarcely  moved ; it  was 
as  cold  as  lead.  I could  not  bear  the  long  day 
before  me ; and  I tried  to  sleep  again ; yet  still 
I heard  the  feet  upon  the  pavement.  And 
suddenly  I heard  them  cry  loud  as  they  beat, 
“We  are  seeking! — we  are  seeking! — we  are 
seeking !”  and  the  broken  barrel-organ  at  the 
street  corner  sobbed,  “The  Beautiful!  — the 
Beautiful! — the  Beautiful !”  And  my  heart, 
which  had  been  dead,  cried  out  with  every 
throb,  4 4 Love ! — Truth ! — the  Beautiful ! — the 
Beautiful !“  It  was  the  music  I had  heard 
in  Heaven  that  I could  not  sing  there. 

And  fully  I awoke. 

Upon  the  faded  quilt,  across  my  bed  a long 
yellow  streak  of  pale  London  sunlight  was 
lying.  It  fell  through  my  narrow  attic  window. 

I laughed.  I rose. 

I was  glad  the  long  day  was  before  me. 

Paris  and  London. 


BOSTON  COLLEGE 


3 9031  01143608  6 


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BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  HEIGHTS 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 


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served. 

Two  cents  a day  is  charged  for  each  book 
kept  overtime. 

If  you  cannot  find  what  you  want,  ask  the 
librarian  who  will  be  glad  to  help  you. 

The  borrower  is  responsible  for  books  drawn 
on  his  card  and  for  all  fines  accruing  on  the 


same. 


